UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

AT   LOS  ANGELES 


ROBERT  ERNEST  COWAN 


w®. 


ROBERT  ERNEST  COWAN 


•:      ' 
M  SHOES'1 


°/-> 


ALMOND-EYED. 


A  STORY  OF  THE  DAY. 


BY 

ATWELL  WHITNEY. 


WITH  SEVENTEEN  FULL-PAGE  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


'  Not  that  I  loved  Caesar  less,  but  that  I  loved  Rome  more." 


POINTED   FOR  THE  AUTHOR    BY 

A.   L.   BANCROFT  &   COMPANY, 

721  Market  Street. 

1878. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1878, 

BY  W.  A.  CHENEY, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


PREFACE. 


I  WOULD  not  apologize  for  my  work,  but  simply  use 
that  right  which  all  authors  have,  of  starting  the  reader 
with  correct  notions  of  the  spirit  and  intention  of  the 
•   writer. 

Firstly,  being  a  firm  believer  in  the  grand  old  doctrines 

of  Christianity,  I  would  disclaim  any  intention  of  ridiculing 

'rA religion,  but  rather  those  who  make  of  it  a  farce. 

>r     Secondly,  my  desire  is  merely  to  present  a  vexing  prob- 

^lem  in  the  simplest  manner  possible;   therefore,  I  have 

-'  not  burdened  these  pages  with  statistics,  which  are  always 

<£.  misleading;  nor  have  I  dressed  the  problem  in  its  holiday 

"^  attire,  ready  for  an  airing  in  the  presence  of  Senators  and 

men  of  legal  lore;  but  have  left  it  in  its  every-day  dress, 

for  those  who  wear  such  garments  to  examine  it. 


292861 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER.  PACK. 

I.  CELESTIAL  VISITANTS 7 

II.  YARBTOWN  PATS  THE  CELESTIALS  ON  THE 

BACK  10 

III.  YARBTOAVN    MANUFACTURES 16 

IV.  THE  CHINESE  SABBATH-SCHOOL 19 

V.  THE  ENTERING  WEDGE 25 

VI.  JOB  A  MISSIONARY 29 

VII.  JOB'S  PERFIDY 35 

VIII.  SIMON  SPUD  SECURES  A  WITNESS 42 

IX.  THE  WEDGE  ADVANCES 45 

X.    JOB  BEFORE  THE  CHURCH 50 

XI.  THE  TRIAL  CONTINUED 59 

XII.  BESSIE'S  COURAGE 68 

XIII.  THE  DREAD  VISITANT 72 

XIV.  DUTY  VERSUS  DUTY 77 

XV.  THE  MIDNIGHT  FUNERAL 84 

XVI.  PEGGY  GETS  VACCINATED 86 

XVII.  JOB  RETREATS 94 

XVIII.  SIMON  SPUD  PLOTS 99 

XIX.  JOB  SHANGHAED 104 

XX.  SIMON  ASSAILS  THE  CITADEL 109 

XXI.  GREEK  MEETS  GREEK 1 1 6 

XXII.  THE  WARNING..                                       .  121 


6  Contents. 

CHAPTER.  PACK. 

XXIII.  THE  OPIUM  DEN 126 

XXIV.  OLLA  PODRIDA 134 

XXV.  BESSIE'S  CONFESSION 144 

XXVI.  SIMON  HAS  HIS  EYES  OPENED 148 

XXVII.  FIRE  !     FIRE  ! 153 

XXVIII.  THE  WEDDING 163 

XXIX.  THE  WIND-UP 167 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 
FRONTISPIECE. 

DEACON  SPUD IO 

PEGGY  SPROUL ". 13 

JOB  STEARNS 7 

PEGGY  SPROUL  AND  HER  CLASS 23 

BESSIE'S  PROMISING  PUPIL 26 

JOB  ON  THE  WAR-PATH 31 

SIMON  SPUD 36 

SIMON  SECURES  A  WITNESS 43 

BESSIE  REMONSTRATES  WITH  SIMON 65 

BESSIE  CALDWELL 69 

THE  MIDNIGHT  BURIAL 85 

PEGGY'S  TRIBULATION 87 

PEGGY  PUTS  OUT  THE  YELLOW  FLAG 90 

SIMON  SPUD  Woos 112 

THE  PROFESSIONAL  VISIT 129 

THE  END.  .  .168 


JOB    STEARN$ 


ALMOND-EYED. 


CHAPTER  I. 

CELESTIAL    VISITANTS. 

THERE  was  considerable  excitement  among  the  relig- 
iously-inclined in  Yarbtown,  for  they  were  in  a  few  days 
to  receive  their  first  importation  of  Celestial  beings;  not 
the  angel  visitations  so  often  prayed  for  by  them  in  their 
earnest  prayer-meetings,  but  the.  almond-eyed,  flat-nosed 
Celestials  from  over  the  seas  of  their  own  sin-cursed 
world. 

Why  Yarbtown  had  been  so  fortunate  as  to  remain  so 
long  as  it  had  free  from  actual  habitation  by  the  Chinese 
is  easily  explained.  One  of  the  old  Mexican  ranches 
being  for  sale,  and  offering  extra  inducements  for  a  colony 
of  hard-working  men,  a  number  of  young  farmers,  with 
likewise  a  fair  sprinkling  of  staid  old  plowmen,  gathered  up 
their  household  goods,  joined  to  themselves  a  schoolmaster 
and  minister,  and  journeying  to  the  Land  of  Gold,  planted 
themselves  and  their  crops  on  this  promising  ranch. 

A  goodly  town,  savoring  somewhat  of  New  England  in 
its  cosy  cottages  and  intelligent  residenters,  soon  sprung 
into  existence.  Not  merely  a  home  for  the  farmers  was 


8  Angel  Visitants. 

it,  but  as  time  went  by  the  town  began  gradually  to  ad- 
vance in  manufacturing  interests.  A  starch-factory  of  fair 
proportions  enlivened  the  main  street,  and  the  nucleus  of 
a  prospective  manufactory  of  brooms  was  started.  Indeed, 
the  town  of  Yarbtown  bade  fair  to  bring  wealth  and  hap- 
piness to  the  honest  ranchers  of  its  immediate  neighbor- 
hood. 

Here  was  a  home  market  for  their  potatoes;  here  was 
an  incentive  given  to  plant  their  fair  fields  and  trust  to 
the  God  of  the  harvest  for  prosperity.  Young  in  its 
growth,  it  was  yet  occupied  by  few  others  than  the  sturdy, 
willing  men  and  women  who  had  given  their  time  and 
money  to  its  development. 

There  had  been  small  inducement  offered  to  the  mon- 
grel herd  of  Chinese  who  flooded  even  fairer  portions  of 
the  State.  There  were  plenty  to  cultivate  the  soil,  plenty 
to  turn  the  potatoes  into  starch,  plenty  to  do  the  market- 
ing, willing  daughters  to  do  the  neighborhood  household 
work,  and  a  number  of  sad-hearted  widows  to  earn  their 
scanty-enough  living  at  the  wash-tub  and  ironing-board. 

One  morning,  however,  the  outliving  farmers,  as  they 
came  into  town  with  their  produce,  rubbed  their  eyes  in 
amazement  to  see,  in  front  of  several  dilapidated  sheds,' 
the  lobster-signs  of  "Ling  Poo,  Washing  and  Ironing," 
"  Lee  Chung,  Chinese  Doctor,"  and  a  jabbering  crowd  of 
the  "foreign  citizens"  themselves,  arranging  excitedly 
for  their  residence  among  them. 


Angel  Visitants.  9 

I  said  the  farmers  were  amazed;  they  were  not  dis- 
pleased— good,  simple  souls — for  they  were  not  worldly- 
wise  nor  hard-hearted.  They  considered,  too,  the  amount 
of  work  of  which  these  busy  hands  would  relieve  them. 

Here,  too,  were  more  mouths  to  feed  with  their  pro- 
duce; therefore,  they  received  them  with  open  arms,  and 
even  assisted  them  in  arranging  homes  for  themselves  and 
settling  comfortably  among  them.  As  though  the  locust 
needed  assistance  in  scenting  the  grain-fields,  or  the  buz- 
zard the  carrion! 

Thus,  Yarbtown  placed  itself  under  the  yoke. 


io  Yarbtown  Encourages  the.  Celestials. 

CHAPTER  II. 

YARBTOWN  PATS  THE  CELESTIALS  OX  THE  BACK. 

I  HAVE  referred  to  the  fact  that  the  people  of  Yarbtown 
were  simple-minded;  they  also  boasted  a  fair  number  of 
pious  people.  They  were  of  the  good,  old-fashioned 
Presbyterian  stock,  too,  and,  consistently  with  their  prin- 
ciples, could  not  fail  to  perceive  the  guiding  hand  of  Prov- 
idence in  this  wholesale  gathering  of  heathen  in  their  very 
midst. 

Old  Deacon  Spud,  the  first  and  only  deacon  of  the 
church,  appreciated  the  situation,  and  took  a  move  in  the 
right  direction  upon  the  very  first  Sunday  following  their 
arrival.  By  his  advice,  a  church  meeting  was  called  for 
that  very  evening;  all  who  felt  interested  in  the  welfare  of 
the  town,  and  were  moved  by  religious  feeling,  were  in- 
vited to  be  present. 

At  the  appointed  hour,  the  little  church  was  filled. 
Parson  Smudgins  was  in  the  chair,  duly  installed  as  mod- 
erator. After  the  usual  opening  exercises  of  such  occa- 
sions, to  bring  the  object  of  the  meeting  promptly  before 
them,  Deacon  Spud  offered  the  following  concise  resolu- 
tion: 

"  Whereas,  we  as  a  Christian  people  have  ever  thirsted 
for  the  spread  of  the  Gospel  among  the  heathen  tribes  of 
earth;  and  whereas,  God  has  permitted  them  to  come  to 
our  very  doors  and  dwell  among  us,  be  it 


DEACON  SPUD. 


Yarbtown  Encourages  the  Celestials.  n 

"  Resolved,  That  we  will  do  all  in  our  power  to  urge 
upon  them  the  teachings  of  Christ  and  bring  them  to  a 
knowledge  of  their  darkness." 

Deacon  Spud  paused  after  reading  this  brief  but  pointed 
resolution,  and  wiped  an  indefinite  amount  of  moisture 
from  his  glasses. 

No  one  ever  doubted  Deacon  Spud's  honesty  of  purpose 
and  purity  of  heart,  and  public  opinion  granted  that  he 
expressed  his  sincere  convictions  in  this  resolution;  there- 
fore, whatever  remarks  he  might  have  to  make  upon  the 
subject  were  looked  for  with  interest  by  the  people. 

Hitching  up  his  collar  behind,  and  spreading  his  horny 
hands  for  support  upon  the  moderator's  table,  he  pro- 
ceeded: 

"Mr.  Moderator  and  Brethering:  For  twenty  odd  year 
hev  I  been  int'rested  in  the  convarshun  of  the  heathen.  I 
hev  wrastled  in  prayer,  and  guv  uv  my  airthly  sub'sance. 
I  don't  bleeve  in  shoutin'  'the  Gospil-ship  is  a  sailin'  on/ 
'thout  greasin'  the  riggin'  an'  fillin'  the  locker.  Now, 
brethering,  we  all  hev  felt  kinder  down-sperited  at  times 
when  we've  heerd  that  it  cost  nigh  onto  a  dollar  fer  to 
git  twenty-five  cents  to  furrin'  parts  to  put  the  Gospil  into 
their  hands.  Now,  tez  clar,  here  is  a  opportunity  to  do 
the  Lord's  work  in  a  ekernomicle  way.  Here  ez  be- 
nighted heathen  right  among  us.  No  need  fer  to  go  to 
the  expense  of  shoddin'  the  feet  of  messingers  to  send  to 
'em — they  are  here,  right  here,  brethering;  an'  shell  we 


12  Yarbtown  Encourages  the  Celestials, 

let  'em  sot  up  their  idles  of  wood  an'  stun  an'  stubble  in 
the  light  of  the  Gospil  ?  No!  Let  us  be  up  and  doin', 
fer  the  night  ez  a  comin'  when  we  must  shet  off  'm  our 
work." 

Deacon  Spud's  remarks  produced  a  profound  sensation 
among  his  auditors.  Brought  up  in  the  hallowed  light  of 
the  puritanical  society  of  old  New  England,  where  the 
missionary  box  was  a  regular  institution,  and  where  their 
good  souls  devoured  with  avidity  the  accounts  of  benighted 
races  whose  frugal  repast  was  incomplete  without  a  joint 
or  so  from  some  stray  missionary,  the  thought  that  they 
had  them  right  at  their  doors,  begging  for  light,  was  enough 
for  the  moment  to  astound  them. 

There  was  much  whispering  among  the  people  for 
awhile;  good  brethren  rubbed  their  bald  heads  in  perplex- 
ity of  thought,  and  saintly  sisters  held  confused  converse 
with  each  other.  There  was  a  general  glancing  around  to 
see  who  would  speak  next. 

Finally,  like  Poe's  "  Raven,"  good  Sister  Peggy  Sproul, 
a  saintly  maiden  lady,  whose  tongue  was  ever  cocked  and 
primed,  "  with  many  a  flirt  and  flutter,"  arose  to  her  feet. 
She  wrinkled  up  her  forehead  and  closed  her  eyes,  as  she 
commenced : 

"  Bruthren,  northin'  but  a  general  uprisin'  on  the  part 
uv  the  hull  church  shell  prevent  me  from  a  goin'  right 
among  'em  myself.  We've  plead  fer  misshunneries  to  go 
among  'em  to  the  ends  uv  the  airth,  and  now  we  hev  'em 


PEQGY 


Yarbtown  Encourages  the  Celestials.  13 

to  hum,  where  our  prayers  can  be  heerd  by  'em,  where  the 
light  uv  our  example  can  be  seen  by  'em,  an'  where  the 
sweetest  songs  uv  Z ion  can  be  forever  a  ringin'  in  their 
ears.  Why,  jess  think  uv  it,  bruthren — I  seed  'em  to-day 
a  eatin'  with  knittin'  needles,  an'  a  spittin'  on  the  gownds 
they  was  i'ning.  Oh,  the  darkness  of  such  doin's!  I 
think  the  least  we  can  do  ez  to  oggernize  a  Sunday  skule 
right  off,  an'  go  to  work.  I'll  be  one  among  yer." 

If  Deacon  Spud's  speech  had  produced  an  effect,  doubly 
so  had  Sister  Sprouls',  for  the  busy  heads  and  tongues  were 
at  it  again  in  more  confusion  and  more  earnestly  than 
before. 

Probably  the  good  church  members  of  Yarbtown  would 
have  considered  the  matter  of  a  Sabbath  school  for  the 
Chinese  as  settled  without  putting  it  to  vote,  if  they  had 
not  been  shocked  almost  out  of  their  seven  senses  by  the 
remarks  which  followed  from  Brother  Job  Stearns,  a  prom- 
ising young  man  of  the  community.  Mr.  Stearns  was 
possessed  of  a  frank,  fine,  open  face;  honesty  was  written 
on  every  feature.  Large  brown  eyes,  always  widely 
opened  with  an  unconcealing,  wondering  expression,  told 
of  the  trusty  soul  behind  them.  Large,  heavily  built,  his 
body  was  almost  as  big  as  his  heart.  Rising  to  his  feet 
quietly,  he  addressed  the  moderator  respectfully,  and  with- 
out any  attempt  at  speech-making,  simply  and  with  a  total 
absence  of  affectation,  he  proceeded  as  follows: 

"Friends:  You  all  know  me,  that  I  have  the  Christian 


14  Yarbtown  Encourages  the  Celestials. 

•work  as  much  at  heart  as  any  among  you;  and  far  be  it  from 
me  to  throw  unreflectingly  a  damper  upon  your  feelings  in 
this  matter.  I  am  young,  and  perhaps  presuming  in  ad- 
dressing you,  but  I  am  also  dependent  upon  my  labor  for 
my  daily  bread,  and  have  therefore  a  right  to  speak  upon 
any  subject  which  has  a  tendency  to  take  from  me  the 
chance,  the  privilege  of  earning  a  fair,  honest  living  by 
the  sweat  of  my  brow.  I  have  traveled  some  in  this  State, 
and  from  observation  have,  I  must  confess,  come  to  a 
different  conclusion  from  what  you  seem  to.  I  can't  find 
it  in  my  heart  to  give  such  a  cordial  greeting  to  these  Chi- 
nese as  you  wish  me  in  common  with  the  rest,  for  I  am 
confident  they  will  never  add  to  the  present  prosperity  or 
the  future  welfare  of  our  town.  It  is  scarcely  just  to  say 
God  has  purposely  sent  them.  Shall  we  lay  to  Him  all 
the  misfortunes  which  spring  from  greed  of  gain  ?  Money 
is  at  the  bottom  of  it !  Slavery  is  at  the  bottom  of  it !  The 
desire  to  get  something  for  nothing  is  at  the  bottom  of  it. 
If  God  had  intended  to  make  of  California  a  Bethel  for 
the  conversion  of  the  heathen,  undoubtedly  He  would 
have  corraled  in  our  valleys  and  canyons  the  thousands  of 
poor  heathen  redskins,  whom  our  Christian  race  have  con- 
verted by  slaughtering  them.  We  must  convert  the  heathen 
on  their  own  soil,  surrounded  by  the  influences  they  are  to 
contend  with,  and  while  they  are  living  under  their  own 
institutions.  The  conversion  of  one  Chinaman  in  five 
hundred  will  not  counterbalance  the  evil  which  the  pres- 


Yarbtown  Encourages  the  Celestials.  1 5 

ence  of  the  other  four  hundred  and  ninety-nine  have 
done.  I  will  give  money  to  send  missionaries  to  the 
heathen.  I  will  not  sacrifice  my  prospects,  and  those  of  my 
countrymen,  in  the  trial  of  an  experiment  which  has  failed 
and  always  will  fail.  These  men  do  not  come  here  to 
stay;  their  connections  are  at  home.  They  will  carry  our 
capital  away.  They  will  steal  the  bread  from  mouths 
already  strangers  to  delicacies.  Mark  my  words,  brethren; 
the  end  of  this  thing,  unless  wise  counsels  prevail,  will  be 
sorrow,  suffering  and  blood,  instead  of  the  conversion  of 
all  China  to  the  standard  of  Christ." 

Never  were  the  people  of  Yarbtown  so  nearly  thunder- 
struck. 

"  The  Lud  save  him !" 

"Bruther  Starns  fallin'  from  grace — how  sudding!" 
Good  Peggy  Sproul  threw  her  scrawny  arms  high  in  the 
air  and  shook  the  forefinger  of  each  hand  at  Job,  while 
she  rolled  her  eyes  in  horror  at  such  blasphemy  and  irre- 
ligion. 

But  Job's  common  sense  was  lack  of  spiritual  power; 
Job's  calm  judgment  and  wise  forethought  were  impious 
to  the  astonished  brethren  and  sisters,  and  therefore  his  / 
arguments  were  thrown  away. 

The  Sabbath  school  was  a  settled  fact,  for  the  meeting,/'' 
immediately  proceeded  to  appoint  a  committee  whose  work 
should  be  that  of  collecting  the  heathen  in  next  Sunday. 


j  6  YarltviLTi  ^lanufactures. 

CHAPTER  III. 

YARBTOWX     MANUFACTURES. 

Deacon  Spud  was  a  Christian  man;  that  is,  if  the  fact 
that  he  was  in  good  and  regular  standing  in  the  church, 
and  never  failed  in  attendance  upon  divine  service,  was 
any  evidence.  Phrenology  said  his  brain  had  not  been 
dealt  with  any  too  liberally;  his  head  was  heavy  and  broad 
about  the  ears,  and  his  forehead  was  narrow  and  extremely 
inclined  backwards.  His  eyes  were  small  and  gray,  and 
his  hair  was  brushed  sleekly  forward  over  small  ears. 

And  yet  Deacon  Spud  was  the  autocrat  of  the  village. 
He  had  been,  at  home  hi  the  East,  and  continued  his  lead- 
ership in  the  new  land. 

When,  after  a  couple  of  years'  trial  of  the  new  lands, 
the  farmers  found  that  an  enormous  crop  of  potatoes  could 
be  raised  in  the  soil,  they  began  to  cast  about  for  a  market 
for  this  produce.  No  railroads  had  as  yet  reached  them, 
and  the  little  village  could  not  possibly  devour  all  the  po- 
tatoes hauled  into  it  by  the  farmers. 

Some  long-headed  ones  among  them  proposed  the 
building  of  a  starch-factory.  This  would  give  them  a 
chance  to  turn  their  tubers  into  a  marketable  production 
which  would  keep  untainted  until  such  time  as  it  could  be 
shipped. 

Deacon  Spud,  after  much  figuring,  decided  to  invest  his 
capital  in  this  manner.  The  deacon  had  money,  but  he 


Yarbtown  Manufactures.  17 

had  no  knowledge  of  starch-making.  Job  Stearns  had 
been  a  hand  in  a  Vermont  establishment,  and  to  him  the 
deacon  looked  for  assistance. 

Mr.  Stearns  had  served  a  term  of  two  years  in  the  fac- 
tory of  Josiah  Caldwell,  of  whom  the  Widow  Caldwell  was 
the  relict,  and  up  to  the  time  of  Mr.  Caldwell's  failure  and 
subsequent  death  had  been  the  constant  friend  and  ally  of 
the  family.  Indeed,  common  report  made  him  deeply 
interested  in  the  lively  daughter  of  the  aforesaid  widow. 
Anyhow,  Job  understood  the  process  of  turning  potatoes 
into  starch,  and  was  therefore  the  man  for  the  deacon's 
purpose. 

"  Must  hev  some  one  who  can  boss  the  job  while  I  tend 
he  bizniss  part,  Job,"  he  said. 

"  But,  deacon,"  answered  Job,  "  I  have  just  taken  a 
fine  piece  of  ground,  and  am  som  ;what  behindhand  in 
payment.  I  can't  see  how  I  can  pay  my  installments  to 
the  company  if  I  leave  the  ranch  and  superintend  for 
you." 

"  Wai,  Job,"  said  the  deacon,  winking  his  little  ferret 
eyes;  "  ef  I  pay  you  well  for  the  job,  can't  you  'ford  to  do 
it  ?" 

"That  depends,  deacon,  upon  what  you  call  paying 
well,  and  whether  it  is  to  be  a  continuous  job  or  not,"  re- 
plied Job. 

"  Wai,  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do,  Job,  and  you  won't  find 
any  better  show.  I'll  give  you  eighty  dollars  a  month,  an' 


1 8  Yarbtown  Rfanufac  lures. 

you  may  hev  the  job  as  long  as  you  like,  ef  the  thing 
pays." 

"  It's  likely  to  pay  in  your  hands,  deacon.  Reckon  I'll 
be  safe  in  taking  your  offer,  if  it  only  depends  on  your 
success,"  said  Job;  "fact,  I  don't  know  a  man  here  who 
can  handle  money  to  better  advantage." 

"Sho!  Why,  Brother  Starns,  you  make  me  ashamed 
of  myself  to  consider  me  as  jined  to  airthly  idles,"  sniv- 
eled the  deacon  through  his  tobacco-juice,  while  a  knowing 
look  lighted  up  his  bead-like  eyes. 

"Don't  fret  about  that,  deacon;  nobody  ever  was  fool- 
X  ish  enough  to  suspect  you  of  worshiping  anything  idle." 

Deacon  Spud  was  wise  to  secure  the  sendees  of  such  a 
man  as  Job.  Job  could  run  the  mill;  he  could  keep  the 
books;  besides,  he  was  a  popular  man  among  the  people. 
The  building  occupied  by  the  deacon  in  his  manufacturing 
was  unpretentious,  simply  framed,  sided  with  single  boards, 
and  covered  with  shakes.  It  was  large  enough  for  the 
infancy  of  the  factory,  and  it  was  not  long  until  the  store- 
room was  full  of  the  well-soiled  sacks  of  potatoes. 

The  deacon  made  a  good  article,  and  it  had  a  ready 
sale.  A  little  box-factory  sprung  up  alongside  of  the  creek, 
and  both  the  deacon  and  Job  were  on  the  fair  road  to 
success.  All  this,  of  course,  had  occurred  long  before 
„  John  Chinaman  took  it  into  his  head  to  migrate  to  Yarb- 
town. As  the  town  grew,  the  business  grew  also,  and  the 
deacon's  capital  with  them 


Chinese  Sabbath  School.  19 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  CHINESE  SABBATH  SCHOOL. 

JOB  STEARNS  met  Bessie  Caldwell  in  front  of  the  little 
village  church  on  the  Sunday  following  the  preliminary 
meeting,  and  took  advantage  of  the  half  hour  before 
school  to  have  a  walk  and  chat  among  the  spreading  live- 
oaks  on  the  roadside. 

"  So,  Bessie,  you  are  going  to  tackle  the  Chinamen  to- 
day, are  you  ?" 

"  I  suppose  I  shall  take  a  class  of  them,  Job,  if  they  ask 
me  to." 

"Good  for  you,  Bessie;  you  show  them  how  to  read, 
and  make  them  tell  you  how  to  do  your  hair  up." 

"Now,  Job,  you  must  not  talk  so;  you  know  it's 
naughty,"  pouted  Bessie. 

"Well,  I  declare!  Naughty  to  do  up  your  hair?  Jusi 
think  how  cool  and  comfortable  I  should  be  in  that  hot 
factory  if  I  had  my  head  shaved  like  John.  But  seriously, 
Bessie,  I  wish  these  fellows  had  never  come  among  us. 
You  can't  understand  it,  but  I  do.  It's  all  right  to  teach 
them  how  to  be  Christians,  but  we  can't  afford  to  give  our 
daily  bread  for  it.  And  it  will  come  to  that,  and  before 
long,  too,  Bessie." 

"Oh,  nonsense,  Job;  they  are  a  poor  ignorant  set,  and 
do  work  that  you  men  would  never  think  of  doing,"  re- 
plied Bessie. 


2O  Chinese  Sabbath  School. 

"That's  all  very  well  to  call  them  scavengers  of  work; 
but  the  very  crows  steal  our  corn,  and  so  these  fellows  will 
gradually  steal  our  work  and  do  it  for  a  quarter  of  what  we 
can;  and  the  more  you  educate  them,  the  better  they  do 
it,"  sadly  responded  Job. 

"  Isn't  there  enough  for  all  to  do,  Job  ?  And  if  they  do 
it  as  well  as  the  rest,  why  should  they  not  have  their 
share  ?" 

"That's  it,  Bessie — that's  what  the  money-kings  say: 
'They  do  their  work  as  well  and  cheaper  than  others, 
and  who's  to  hinder  us  from  employing  them  ?'  What  are 
the  poor  fellows  to  do  whose  places  these  foreigners 
take  ?" 

"Goods  will  be  cheaper,  they  say,  the  cheaper  the 
labor,"  remarked  Bessie,  thoughtfully. 

"  That  is  small  comfort.  Can  I  pay  even  low  prices  for 
my  bread  if  I  cannot  get  work  fit  for  a  decent  man  to 
do?" 

"  It  seems  to  me,  though,"  said  Bessie,  "  that  we  ought 
to  teach  the  poor  creatures  all  we  can;  it  seems  as  though 
God  had  sent  them  to  us  for  that  purpose." 

"Yes,"  said  Job,  bitterly,  "send  your  ammunition  of 
learning  over  to  the  ignorant  enemy  for  their  use  against 
us.  I  believe  in  America  for  Americans  or  those  who 
intend  to  become  Americans,  or  else  spend  their  money 
among  us." 

Just  then  the  bell  in  the  church-tower  began  to  ring  out 


Chinese  Sabbath  School.  21 

noisily.  Bessie  hugged  her  little  Testament  up  to  her 
heart  and  went  into  the  porch.  Job  Stearns  had  made  her 
feel  a  little  down-spirited  by  his  conversation,  and  for  a 
moment  she  hesitated,  as  she  saw  him  walking  slowly 
down  the  street  away  from  the  church  at  whose  services  he 
had  always  hitherto  been  punctual  in  attendance. 

The  jabbering  crowd  of  Chinamen  who  had  now  begun 
to  assemble  in  the  vestry  absorbed  all  her  attention. 

Peggy  Sproul  had  been  out  all  the  week  drumming  them 
up.  The  good  creature  had  entered  into  it  with  all  her 
soul,  and  here  they  were,  fresh-shaven  and  clean.  Peggy 
was  hopping  about  eagerly,  finding  seats  for  them. 

"  Here  you,  John,  you  set  down  right  here,  poor  creeturs; 
you've  come  at  last  to  a  knowledge  of  your  sinful  state ! 
No,  no,  what's  name,  don't  set  thar,  that's  the  female  side 
o'  the  meetin'  hus.  Poor  fellow,"  said  she,  patting  a  be- 
wildered Chinaman  on  the  back,  "you'll  soon  know  all 
about  Dan'l  en  the  lion's  den,  an'  all  o'  them  things.  Oh, 
ter  think  I  should  ever  live  ter  see  this  day,  when  they 
come  a  flockin'  from  Greenland's  Icee  Mountings." 

Quiet  and  order  were  soon  secured.  Bessie  seated  her- 
self at  the  little  cabinet  organ,  and  the  brethren  and  sisters 
sung  the  grand  old  missionary  hymn. 

Deacon  Spud  was  elected  superintendent  of  the  school, 
and  proceeded  for  once  without  a  speech,  to  the  task  of 
arranging  them  in  classes.  Volunteer  teachers  were  called 
for,  and  Bessie,  after  giving  Job  a  thought  of  pity,  went 


22  Chinese  Sabbath  School. 

nobly  to  her  work.  There  they  were  before  her,  five  won- 
dering Johns;  wondering  first  of  all  what  it  meant,  and 
wondering  again  what  the  little  woman  sitting  there  so 
modestly  was  going  to  do.  Bessie  had  undertaken  to 
teach  these  heathen.  How  should  she  begin  ?  She  knew 
but  little  of  Chinamen.  Did  they  know  what  they  had 
come  there  for  ?  She  would  find  out. 

So  she  commenced  in  a  low,  sweet,  abashed  voice  with 
the  first  pair  of  almond-eyes  looking  so  amazedly  at  her. 

"You  know,  John,  this  is  God's  house" — the  China- 
man raised  his  head  and  stared  all  about  the  room — "You 
have  come  here  to  learn  to  be  a  Christian,  you  under- 
stand ?" 

John  opened  his  mouth  with  a  broad  grin  fora  moment, 
then  shook  his  head  vigorously  in  the  affirmative,  saying 
at  the  same  time,  "Yeah — yeah — me  sabe.  You  teachee 
me,  me  be  good  Clistian  allee  same  white  man.  Make 
heap  money  allee  same  Deekum  Tater." 

Bessie  had  hard  work  to  keep  from  laughing,  but  she 
only  bit  her  lip  and  glanced  around  to  see  if  the  deacon 
had  heard.  She  saw  nothing  but  the  amused  face  of  Mr. 
Job  Stearns,  who  had  stolen  in  and  taken  up  a  station  a 
seat  or  two  behind  her.  Bessie  flushed  with  vexation. 

"He's  promising  material,  Bessie.  Go  ahead,  you  can 
make  something  out  of  him." 

She  gave  Job  a  little  frown  and  changed  her  tactics. 
She  determined  to  begin  at  the  foundation,  by  teaching 


BESSIE'S  PROMISING  PUPIL. 


Chinese  Sabbath  School.  23 

them  the  alphabet.  She  found  them  adepts  at  learning, 
for  before  the  hour  was  half  out  they  had  the  letters  nearly 
committed  to  memory. 

Job  did  not  interrupt  her  again,  but  felt  all  the  while  that 
every  letter  they  learned  was  a  loaf  of  bread  stolen  from 
the  mouths  of  his  prospective  decendants.  Perhaps  Job 
was  at  fault;  perhaps  he  should  have  entered  heartily  into 
the  work  and  instructed  these  men  in  the  art  of  Christian 
living.  His  heart  failed  him.  He  was  a  sincere  man, 
and  would  do  nothing  which  his  judgment  did  not  approve. 
His  money  he  would  give  freely,  and  always  had,  to  any 
man  who  would  go  to  China,  and  make  it  a  life-purpose 
and  work  to  save  these  men;  but  in  the  world,  he  wished 
to  have  a  fair  share  of  it,  and  fair  play  for  his  muscles  and 
brain,  and  he  felt  keenly  the  mistake  of  elevating  a  no- 
madic race  which  should  prove  to  be  a  stone  on  the  track  of 
social  progress. 

Peggy  Sproul  had  exercised  less  judgment  than  Bessie, 
and  instead  of  instructing  her  class  in  such  a  manner  as 
would  prove  a  lasting  benefit  to  them,  she  kept  them  in  a 
perpetual  state  of  excitement  by  relating,  in  her  expressive 
way,  the  stories  of  Gideon,  Moses  in  the  bulrushes,  and 
David  and  Goliath.  She  told  them  of  Satan,  who  goes 
about  like  a  roaring  lion  seeking  whom  he  may  devour. 
They  looked  at  one  another  in  astonishment  a  moment, 
when  one  of  them  said,  "Me  no  'flaid.  Bymbyburnee/ 
heap  fire-clacker,  scare  'em  'way." 


24  Chinese  Sabbath  School. 

The  rest  of  the  teachers  pursued  substantially  the  same 
course  as  Bessie  Caldwell,  and  upon  the  whole  the  school 
proved  to  be  a  successful  institution  so  far.  After  they 
were  dismissed,  Job  sat  so  long  brooding  over  his  evil  fore- 
bodings that  he  had  the  doubtful  pleasure  of  seeing  Simon 
Spud,  the  son  of  the  deacon,  walking  home  with  Bessie. 

"Another  Chinaman,"  he  muttered;  "why  can't  the 
girl  stick  to  white  folks  ?" 


PEGGY  SPROULAND  HER  CLASS. 


The  Entering  Wedge.  25 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE    ENTERING   WEDGE. 

Sister  Peggy  Sproul  was  one  whose  good  labors  for 
those  in  whom  she  took  an  interest  did  not  cease  with 
the  efforts  to  save  their  souls;  but  understanding  that  other 
things  are  needful  in  this  wicked  world  besides  grace,  she 
had  been,  for  the  six  months  they  had  been  residing  in 
Yarbtown,  earnestly  exerting  herself  in  behalf  of  the  tem- 
poral welfare  of  John  Chinaman  of  Yarbtown. 

Widow  Caldwell,  and  two  or  three  other  lone  ones  of 
the  community,  had  heretofore  enjoyed  a  fair  share  of  the 
washing  and  ironing  business.  There  had  been  some  fall- 
ing off,  but  little,  in  the  number  of  her  customers  since 
the  Chinamen  came.  She  was  not  at  all  alarmed  by  the 
colored  signs  of  John,  indicating  the  dirty  holes  in  which 
washing  and  ironing  might  be  done  at  reasonable  rates. 

"  Surely,  Bessie,"  she  remarked,  when  her  daughter 
suggested  that  there  might  be  opposition  to  their  business; 
"surely  my  old  neighbors  and  friends  of  my  husband 
would  not  desert  me  for  these  strangers;  and  then  they  are 
foreigners.  I  would  give  my  custom  always  to  my  own 
people." 

"  But,  ma,  Mr.  Stearns  says  our  folks  love  the  'almighty 
dollar'  as  much  as  anybody,  and  when  these  Chinamen 
underbid  us  they  will  all  give  them  their  work  to  do." 

"Job  is  worried   beyond  all  reason.     He  is  showing 


2  6  The  Entering  Wedge. 

more  of  an  evil  disposition  than  I  supposed  him  to  pos- 
sess. He  will  have  to  be  careful.  I'm  afraid  the  church 
will  bring  him  to  task  for  his  outspoken  contempt  for  these 
poor  heathen." 

Upon  the  very  day  on  which  the  widow  thus  expressed 
her  confidence  in  her  neighbors,  Bill  Ferguson  came 
saunteiing  in. 

"  Mother  says  you  needn't  send  up  for  our  clothes  next 
Monday." 

"Why  not,  Billy?"  inquired  the  widow;  "is  there  any- 
thing the  matter,  that  she  don't  like  my  work  ?" 

"Oh,  I  guess  not,"  replied  Bill;  "but  then  she  says  she 
can  get  them  fricaseed,  fussed  and  frilled  up  to  the  China- 
man's for  what  you  wash  an'  iron  them  for." 

"Yes,  and  spit  on,  too,"  indignantly  cried  Bessie. 

"And  starve  a  good  woman  while  she  stuffs  a  cussed 
foreign  pig,"  interposed  Job  Stearns,  as  he  came  swinging 
into  the  room  and  heard  the  explanation  of  Bill.  "  You 
see,  Mrs.  Caldwell,"  continued  he,  turning  to  her,  "the 
contest  is  commencing  just  as  I  said  it  would.  Next 
thing  I  will  have  to  submit  to  a  lowering  of  my  wages  or 
wear  a  pig-tail." 

"See  here,  Job,"  said  Bill,  turning  on  him,  "you  quit 
insulting  my  marm.  You'd  better  look  out  how  you  talk. 
Miss  Sproul  says  she  has  recommended  to  Deacon  Spud 
to  discharge  such  an  ungodly  man  as  you  are,  and  take  in 
some  of  these  promising  heathen." 


The  Entering  Wedge.  27 

"Yes,  and  I'll  bet  a  sack  of  potatoes  that  Peggy  has 
whined  and  canted  your  mother  into  sending  them  her 
washing,  too,"  said  Job. 

"Sister  Caldwell,  Sister  Caldwell,"  called  a  whining 
voice  out  at  the  back-door. 

Widow  Caldwell  went  sadly  out  of  the  entry  into  the 
kitchen,  where  Peggy  Sproul  had  seated  herself  in  a  chair, 
and  was  fanning  herself  vigorously  with  her  big  sun-bon- 
net. 

"Sister  Caldwell,"  she  began,  in  a  voice  suggestive  of 
machine  oil,  "the  people  whose  washin'  an'  ireningyou 
do  hev  asked  me  to  visit  you  en  a  sisterly  way,  'nask  you 
to  take  off  twenty-five  cents  a  dozen.  Them  air  China- 
men is  a-doin'  it  fer  that  much  less  'n  you." 

"Well,  I  suppose  I'll  have  to,  if  they  can  get  it  done 
for  that  elsewhere." 

"An'  you  must  get  a  pair  of  them  ar  tongs  to  crimp 
'em  with,  sech  as  the  Chinamen  use — " 

"But  won't  my  crimping  machine  do?     They  never  x 
have  complained   of  that  before,"   said  the  bewildered 
widow. 

"  No;  for  you  see  them  ar  tongs  put  two  or  three  inches 
more  crimping  on  the  things.  You'll  hev  to  do  things  up 
scrimp  an'  stiff  now,  I  can  tell  you,  if  you  want  ter  keep 
the  bizness  in  your  hands,"  replied  Peggy. 

"But,  Sister  Sproul,  I  can't  use  those  tongs;  they  re- 
quire skill,"  said  the  poor  woman. 

"Wall,   I   declar!    Now,  do  you  mean  to  say  them 


28  The  Entering  Wedge. 

heathens  hev  more  skill  nor  you  do  ?  How  do  you  ex- 
pect your  friends  can  send  their  work  to  you  if  you  can't 
do  it  ?" 

"  Sister  Sproul,  I  have  only  my  washing  to  depend  on. 
My  neighbors  have  let  me  do  it  for  some  years,  and  have 
found  no  fault;  and  if  they  now  will  take  it  from  me  and 
send  it  to  heathen  foreigners,  simply  because  they  can 
crimp  two  or  three  inches  more  on  their  underclothing, 
why  the  good  Lord  must  look  out  for  me  and  all  poor 
folks,  that's  all." 

"  Sister  Caldwell,  Sister  Ca-1-d-well !  don't  dare  to  lay  it 
ter  the  Lord.  If  them  ar  benighted  heathen  can  do  it, 
an'  you  can't,  then  you  must  take  the  fault  to  hum.  Good 
day,  Sister  Caldwell,"  and  Peggy  flouted  out  of  the  room. 

Poor  Mrs.  Caldwell  dragged  herself,  tired  and  worn  out 
with  work  and  the  fret  of  her  conversation  with  Peggy, 
back  to  the  sitting-room,  where  Job  and  Bessie  had  re- 
mained, interested  listeners  to  the  confab. 

"Oh,  Job!  oh,  Bessie!  what  shall  I  do?  They  won't 
let  me  do  the  work — they  don't  mean  to." 

"That's  Christianity,  that  is,"  said  Job,  sneeringly; 
"  selling  the  bodies  of  their  own  kith  and  kin  to  save  the 
souls  of  the  heathen.  But  never  mind,  Mother  Caldwell; 
Job  Stearns  has  muscle  and  health,  and  he'll  see  that  you 
don't  come  to  want." 

Widow  Caldwell  looked  up  in  surprise  at  the  word  "moth- 
er," and  then  glanced  at  Bessie,  who  hid  her  blushing  face 
in  her  hands. 


Job  a  Missionary.  29 

CHAPTER  VI. 

JOB  A  MISSIONARY. 

DESPONDENCY  would  be  no  word  to  express  the  state  of 
Job  Steam's  feelings  as  he  left  the  house  of  Mrs.  Caldwell 
— desperation  would  be  a  far  better  word. 

The  hen  will  fly  with  feathers  erect  at  the  dog  to  protect 
her  brood,  the  mother  forgets  self  and  self-interests  when  her 
loved  ones  are  in  danger;  and  so  Job  felt  as  he  saw  those 
who  were  dearer  than  life  to  him  dispossessed  of  their 
means  of  earning  an  honest  living,  and  foresaw  in  the  near 
future  the  furling  of  his  own  useless  sails,  all  because  of 
what  appeared  to  him  to  be  the  veriest  fanaticism  and  Jr 
cant. 

What  should  he  do?  Should  he  burn  down  the  filthy 
wash-houses  of  John  ?  No,  that  would  be  but  the  fighting 
of  a  gross  evil  with  a  grosser  sin.  Job  in  his  present  tem- 
per was  capable  of  it,  aye,  capable  of  anything  desperate. 
But  Job's  heart  was  not.  He  would  watch,  that  is  what  he 
would  do. 

Watch  Chinatown  like  a  cerberus;  he  would  note  every 
objectionable  feature,  watch  every  overt  act  on  the  part  of 
the  detestable  John.  He  would  pry  into  their  secrets,  he 
would  unearth  all  their  deviltry,  he  would  persevere  until 
he  possessed  facts  enough  to  convince  the  most  stubborn 
defender  of  them. 

Job's  feet  kept  pace  with  his  thoughts;  they  turned  from 


30  Job  a  Missionary. 

the  impulse  of  his  mind  toward  Chinatown,  and  before  he 
was  aware  of  that  fact,  the  contemptible  little  sign  of  Hop 
Ling  was  swinging  over  his  head. 

"And  they  would  persuade  me  that  these  people  have 
but  to  imbibe  Christian  ideas  to  become  equal  to  the  best 
of  us.  Humph !  So  has  a  Shoshone,  so  has  a  Piute,  so 
has  a  mud-turtle,  so  has  a  rotten  stick  of  timber.  Look 
into  that  door  there,  now,  Job;  room,  ten  feet  square,  six 
Johns  smudging  it  with  nasty  smoke,  and  as  I  live,  there 
are  seven  bunks  in  it.  Great  Caesar's  ghost!  How  do 
they  sleep?  Yes,  there's  a  woman,  too.  I  wonder  if  Peggy 
Sproul  ever  looked  in  here  ?" 

Job's  comments  to  himself  were  interrupted  by  a  fierce 
jabbering  and  scolding  in  the  house.  Never  did  Billings- 
gate Market  make  such  a  hubbub  on  its  busiest  morning. 
The  shrill  voices  of  the  fisherwomen  of  London  were  dul- 
cet strains  to  the  loud  babble  which  came  forth  from  John's 
at  that  moment.  The  woman's  voice  seemed  the  loudest; 
she  was  berating  one  of  the  Chinamen  roundly  for  some- 
thing. In  a  moment  she  came  running  into  the  street, 
followed  by  three  Chinamen.  Up  and  down  the  sidewalk 
they  chased  her,  she  jabbering  like  an  insane  parrot  the 
while.  The  woman  made  a  sudden  turn  and  darted  into 
a  dark  doorway,  the  valiant  Johns  following  immediately 
on  her  footsteps.  Pretty  soon  sounds  of  blows  falling  on 
something  with  a  dull  thud  came  out  of  the  darkness. 
Job  rushed  in. 


JOB  ONTHE  WARPATH. 


Job  a  Missionary.  31 

"You  helpee  me!  You  helpee  me!"  screamed  the 
woman.  Job's  eyes  were  soon  accustomed  to  the  dark- 
ness, and  they  saw  a  sight  that  would  have  been  instruct- 
ive to  even  good  Peggy  Sproul. 

The  two  Chinamen  had  the  woman  pressed  down  to  the 
floor,  and  one  of  them  was  engaged  in  the  elevating,  Chris- 
tianizing operation  of  decapitating  her  with  a  pick  handle. 
Job  seized  him  by  the  throat  and  hurled  him  backwards  to 
the  floor.  He  shook  him  as  a  cat  would  a  mouse  while 
he  inculcated  some  instructive  missionary  teaching.  As 
soon  as  the  Chinaman  regained  his  feet,  Job  recognized 
him  as  Bessie's  promising  Sabbath-school  scholar.  Mr. 
Job  Stearns  was  a  gallant  man,  and  he  felt  called  upon  to 
see  that  the  woman  regained  her  home  without  further 
injury,  so  he  escorted  her  down  to  Hop  Ling's,  and  fearing 
a  continuation  of  the  outbreak  should  he  leave  immediately, 
sat  down  and  politely  informed  Mr.  Hop  Ling's  attendants 
that  he  would  gladly  break  the  head  of  any  one  of  them 
who  should  presume  to  take  vengeance  upon  Mrs.  What- 
ever-her-name-was. 

There  was  a  peculiar  game  going  on  in  the  room,  and 
Job,  thinking  perhaps  that  here  was  a  good  chance  to  in- 
form himself  as  to  their  habits  as  he  would  ever  have, 
remained  to  watch  its  progress. 

Job  had  refused  to  interest  himself  in  the  Mission  School, 
simply  because  of  the  fact  that  it  was  equivalent  to  giving 
the  undesired  enemy  possession  of  his  kinsman's  best  am- 
munition. 


32  Job  a  Missionary. 

But  was  not  Job  a  missionary  of  the  first  water?  Cer- 
tainly he  bore  strong  contrast  to  one  of  the  tract  distributors 
of  a  flourishing  city  in  the  east,  who  found  a  poor  family  in 
the  sixth  story  of  a  crowded  house,  starving  and  freezing  to 
death,  and  complacently  sat  down  with  his  comfortable 
overcoat  on  to  read  a  chapter  on  humble  submission  to 
Providence.  When  he  returned  to  tfie  general  office  he 
told  his  story,  and  while  he  was  telling  it  a  poor  laboring 
man  shot  out  of  the  room,  found  the  sufferers,  and  left  his 
overcoat  and  a  basket  of  provisions. 

A  strange  diversion  from  my  story !  No,  it  is  not.  A 
great  principle  which  Job  appreciated  underlies  it.  Sub- 
stantial, practical  instruction  and  elevation  of  the  human 
race  in  its  ignorance  and  suffering  is  better  than  theoretical. 
Job's  jist  was  practical — the  mission  encouragement  of  a 
people  separated  from  us  by  thousands  of  years  of  con- 
trary teaching  and  living,  and  that  encouragement  given 
on  our  own  ground,  in  our  own  suffering  cities,  is  theoret- 
ical. If  a  man  is  to  fight  grizzlies  he  must  learn  to  do  it 
where  grizzlies  exist.  We  don't  want  his  knife  and  rifle 
practice  in  our  parlors  nor  in  our  peaceful  grain  fields. 

Job  stayed,  and  he  saw  hundreds  of  dollars  which  ought 
to  have  been  turned  into  flour  and  tea  for  Widow  Cald- 
well  and  her  like  pass  from  hand  to  hand  until  a  good  share 
of  it  was  gracefully  gathered  by  the  winsome-looking  rep- 
resentative of  Hop  Ling,  never,  alas!  to  touch  fair  hands 
again,  never  to  feed  hungry  mouths  again  here  until  it  had 


Job  a  Missionary.  33 

crossed  the  great  Pacific  and  strayed  back  in  the  pockets 
of  a  new  importation  of  the  almond-eyed. 

Job  arose  heart-sick  and  disgusted,  not  so  much  by  what 
he  had  seen  as  by  the  foolish,  short-sightedness  and  stub- 
bornness of  the  whole  cla,ss  of  Peggy  Sprouls  scattered  all 
over  the  land.  As  he  went  out  the  door  he  met  Simon 
Spud. 

"Aha,  my  fine  boy,"  said  Simon,  "I've  caught  you  this 
time." 

"Well,  what  of  it?"  responded  Job. 

"Ho!  what  of  it?  Didn't  I  see  you  walking  down 
street  with  that  Chinawoman,  and  didn't  I  see  you  in  the 
gambling  hell  for  over  an  hour  ?" 

"Well,  you  did;  and  what  of  it  again?"  said  Job. 

"  You  are  a  deep  one.  Don't  I  intend  to  tell  Bessie 
Caldwell,  aha!  And  won't  the  governor  raise  his  eyes  in 
church-meeting  when  Peggy  Sproul  prefers  charges,  eh  ? 
What  of  it  now,  my  boy  ?" 

"  Sime,  it's  none  of  your  business,  anyhow.  I  protected 
a  defenseless  woman  from  a  set  of  devilish  Chinamen." 

"  Yes,  ye-s,  you  did,  and  then  walked  home  with  her  to 
a  gambling-house  and  stayed  an  hour.  I  saw  yer,  I  did." 

"  It  isn't  worth  while  to  waste  words  with  you,  Sime.  If 
you  want  to  lie  about  it,  I  don't  know  who  can  hinder 
you."  And  upon  that,  Job  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked 
off. 

Simon  Spud  doubled  up  his  fist  for  a  moment,  but  a 


34  Job  a  Missionary. 

glance  at  the  back  of  Job's  broad-shouldered  retreating 
figure  undoubled  it  again. 

"  No,  that  won't  do,"  muttered  Simon;  "  I  can  do  bet- 
ter than  that.  Oh,  I  have  it!  Witnesses — yes,  that's  it; 
witnesses,  that's  what  I  want.  I'll  prove  him  a  rascal  and 
a  whining  hypocrite,  and  then  the  field's  clear.  '  My  dear 
Bessie/  yes,  that's  what  he  called  her.  Guess  we'll  swap 
tongues  after  this.  We'll  let  him  cuss  awhile,  and  I'll 
'dear  Bessie.'  " 

Simon  Spud  was  a  second  edition  of  Spud  Sr.,  without 
the  added  grace,  and  partaking  of  a  similarly  crafty  dispo- 
sition, was  fully  capable  of  carrying  out  the  programme  he 
had  in  mind.  Part  first  of  that  programme  was  to  get  a 
witness  to  Job's  perfidy.  Simon  looked  around  to  see  that 
nobody  was  in  sight,  then  darted  into  the  den  which  Job 
had  just  quit. 


JoVs  Perfidy.  35 

CHAPTER  VII. 

JOB'S    PERFIDY. 

JOB  STEARNS  had  it  in  mind  to  do  another  missionary 
act  that  day,  so  he  started  down  to  Mrs.  Caldwell's.  His 
good  purpose  was  to  comfort  the  poor  widow  in  her  afflic- 
tion. 

"Mr.  Stearns,"  said  the  widow,  "have  you  seen  Deacon 
Spud  to-day?" 

"No,  I  have  not;  he  has  not  been  in  the  office  all  day, 
and  this  evening  I  have  been  busy.  Does  he  want  to  see 
me?" 

"  Yes,  he  has  been  down  here  in  a  terrible  flurry  to  find 
you.  There's  something  wrong  up  at  the  office !  " 

"  Did  he  tell  you  what  the  matter  was  ? "  inquired  Job. 

"  No,  he  only  seemed  anxious  to  find  you." 

"Well,  I'll  go  up  to  the  house  and  see  him.  But,  Mrs. 
Caldwell,  I  came  in  to  see  if  you  could  board  me  awhile, 
I  am  tired  of  my  present  quarters;  and  then  they  have  a 
China  cook,  and  that  I  won't  stand." 

"Oh,  Job,"  cried  Bessie,  "that  will  be  nice,  for  mother 
don't  know  really  what  to  do,  and  a  boarder  will  help  her 
so  much." 

"  Hush,  child,"  said  the  mother.  "Certainly,  Job,  I  wiH 
be  glad  to  have  you  come,  but  I'm  afraid  my  table  won't 
suit  you." 

"Oh,  pine-wood  will  do  for  that,"  laughed  Job,  as  he 
went  out. 


36  Job's  Perfidy. 

"  Now  for  the  old  man.  I  wonder  what  has  happened?  I 
believe  I  was  born  into  trouble  as  the  sparks  fly  upward," 
soliloquized  he,  as  he  bent  his  footsteps  toward  the  dea- 
con's house. 

Deacon  Spud  met  him  on  the  threshold,  and  bade  him 
good-evening'  in  a  tone  so  constrained  that  it  informed  Job 
that  whatever  was  the  matter,  he  was  somehow  mixed  up 
with  it  in  the  deacon's  mind.  He  thought  of  a  dozen 
things  in  a  moment,  trying  to  recall  some  overt  act  on  his 
part,  some  forgotten  task,  some  neglected  business;  but  he 
had  been  faithful  to  his  work,  there  was  nothing  for  which 
his  conscience  troubled  him,  so  he  gave  him  a  cordial, 
hearty  "good-evening." 

"I  hev  been  hunting  fer  ye,  Job;  there's  something 
wrong  down  ter  the  office.  Mebbe  you  ken  tell  me  what 
'tis,"  suggested  the  deacon,  peering  cautiously  into  Job's 
face  as  he  spoke. 

"  I  don't  understand  what  you  mean,  deacon,"  replied 
Job. 

"  You  don't?  Mebbe  you  can't  tell  me  'thout  thinkin' 
a  long  spell,  whar  thet  ar'  money's  gone  ter." 

"  What  money?     Gone  to?     What  do  you  mean?  " 

"Wai,  I  mean  thet'some  one  'thout  grace  or  mussy  hez 
bin  a  takin'  what  don't  rightfully  belong  to  them  down  to 
the  office." 

"  Stealing  the  factory  money,  do  you  mean  that  ?"  in- 
quired Job,  in  astonishment. 


Job's  Perfidy.  37 

"Yes,  thet's  it,,  bein'  a  goin'  on  fer  some  time  —  first  a 
dollar,  then  two,  then  ten,  and  now  twenty  all  ter  once." 

Job  Stearns  listened  to  this  statement  of  theft  in  mingled 
amazement  and  dread.  He  and  the  deacon  only  had  the 
key  to  the  money  drawer;  he  alone  kept  the  accounts. 
The  key  of  the  drawer  was  that  moment  in  his  pocket. 
Who  could  have  done  such  an  act  ?  Why  had  the  old  man 
been  inspecting  the  accounts  so  carefully  ?  Had  the  dea- 
con become  suspicious,  suspicious  of  him,  Job  Stearns,  who 
never  knew  what  it  was  to  have  aught  breathed  against  his 
honor  ? 

"Job,"  said  the  deacon,  "I'm  afeared  some  one  hez  bin 
trusted  too  much,  eh  ?" 

"Who  have  you  trusted,  deacon?  Have  you  trusted 
anybody  with  your  key  ?  Mine  has  never  been  out  of  my 
hands." 

"  'Zactly,"  said  the  deacon,  "jess  what  I  was  a  comin'  at. 
Who  could  a  done  it  'thout  was  you  or  I,  an'  ez  it's  my 
money,  'taint  likely  I  stole  my  own." 

"  That,  I  presume  is  equivalent  to  saying  I  took  it," 
commented  Job,  sarcastically. 

"I  really  don't  like  to  suspicion  on  yer,  Job;  but,  yer 
see,  I've  marked  consid'able  change  in  yer  during  the 
last  few  months.  Yer  don't  cum  ter  church  much.  Yer 
don't  int'rest  yerself  in  the  good  work  like  yer  used  ter. 
Now,  I  calclate  a  man  who  makes  sech  changes  en  his 
crackter  en  so  short  a  time  would  be  likely  to  be  untruth- 
ful an'  thievious." 

292861 


38  Job's  Perfidy. 

"Deacon  Spud,"  shouted  Job,  scarcely  able  to  retain 
his  temper,  "  I  indignantly  deny  the  truth  of  such  a  charge. 
I  consider  you  a  sniveling,  sneaking  hypocrite,  without 
one  grain  of  honor  in  you.  I  steal  your  money — your 
paltry  fifty  or  sixty  dollars !  Heavens!  If  I  was  going  to 
sell  my  honor  I  would  charge  higher  than  that  for  it.  No, 
no,  Deacon  Spud,  your  meanness  is  on  the  surface,  like 
grease  on  water.  You  wish  to  worry  me  out  of  the  mill, 
save  yourself  the  trouble  of  discharging  me,  goad  me  out 
of  it  in  order  that  you  may  fill  up  the  places  of  honest 
men  with  Chinamen.  I  understand  it.  I  have  expected 
it.  I've  seen  the  same  thing  in  ,the  mines.  Knock  off 
first  four  bits,  then  a  dollar,  and  then,  if  the  poor  fellows 
won't  leave,  put  Chinamen  in  alongside  of  them.  Go 
ahead,  Deacon  Spud;  such  a  course  may  bring  you  bless- 
ing, but  I  don't  believe  it." 

The  deacon's  face  was  a  sight  to  see  during  Job's  lec- 
ture. First  it  turned  red  with  anger,  then  a  gray  pallor 
spread  over  it,  and  finally  settled  upon  a  white  heat. 

"Job  Starns,  Job  Starns,"  he  commenced,  with  a  com- 
ical attempt  at  dignified  severity,  "  I  could  fergive  the  loss 
o'  my  money,  but  these  aspussions  you  cast  up  agin  my 
good  name  I  must  not  fergive. .  Ez  it  any  wonder  these 
poor  but  honest  heathen,  thusting  fer  nollidge,  should  be 
employed  to  fill  the  places  of  such  vipers  ez  you,  whom 
I've  nurrished  en  my  buzzum,  whose  hands  I've  upheld, 
an'  fer  whose  int' rests  I've  daily  prayed  fer !" 

The  deacon  ended  with  a  whine    and    sniffle,   and 


Job's  Perfidy.  39 

screwed  his  face  up  until  it  resembled  that  of  a  child  in 
anticipation  of  a  good  spanking. 

Before  Job  had  gathered  wits  enough  to  reply  to  this 
pathetic  eloquence  of  the  good  deacon,  the  door  swung 
open,  a  hat  was  flung  into  the  room,  and  Simon  Spud  en- 
tered behind  it. 

"  Good  evening,  guv'ner.  What's  the  rumpus  now  ? 
What  are  you  bawling  about — and  what  in  thunder  are 
you  here  for,  Job  ?  Cheeky,  by  George,  to  come  right 
from  where  I  saw  you  to  the  guv'ner's.  Been  wheedling 
and  coddling  him,  I  s'pose." 

Job  made  no  reply  to  this  impudent  speech,  but  the  old 
deacon  caught  an  inference  from  the  knowing  look  on  his 
promising  scion's  features. 

"Eh!  what!  Whar's  he  bin  now,  Simon?  What's  he 
bin  adoin'  ?" 

"  Oh,  nowheres  and  nothing.  I  s'pose  he  will  say," 
grinned  Simon. 

"I  will  save  him  the  trouble  of  telling  you,  Deacon 
Spud.  I've  been  down  in  Chinatown,  protecting  an 
abused  woman,"  quietly  remarked  Job. 

"Hear  him,  guv'ner — he's  been  down  to  Chinatown 
protecting  an  abused  woman!  Now,  that's  good.  Give 
us  a  rest !"  shouted  Sime,  punching  Job  in  the  ribs  with 
his  forefinger. 

"  Quit  that  ar  slang,  Simon,  an'  tell  me  what  yer  mean," 
said  Spud  Senior. 


4O  Job's  Perfidy. 

"Well,  s'pose  I  must,  seeing  he  called  me  a  liar  when 
I  told  him  I  saw  it  all.  Don't  know  as  I  should  have 
blowed  on  him,  but  for  that,"  answered  Simon,  with  a 
leer. 

"L  you  tell  him  what  you  told  me,  connecting'  it  with 
the  same  inference,  I  will  take  great  pleasure  in  repeating 
that  assertion  about  your  truthfulness,"  said  Job. 

"Oh,  you  will,  will  ye?  Well,  guv'ner,  I  don't  know 
anything  about  his  inference;  but  I  saw  him  walking 
own  Chinatown  with  Ah  Chung's  woman.  She's  a  good 
woman,  pa,"  sneeringly.  "  He  walked  down  street  with 
her,  and  went  into  the  gambling  hell  down  near  Hop 
Ling's,  and  stayed  there  over  an  hour." 

"  Job  Starns,  ez  this  true  ? "  piously  inquired  the 
deacon. 

"  True,  every  word  of,  as  I  guess  Ah  Chung  can  vouch," 
said  Job,  smiling,  as  he  thought  of  Ah  Chung's  discom- 
fiture. 

"  Wall,  I  s'pose  yer  won't  deny  now  thet  yer  took  thet 
ar  money,  for  this  shows  whar  'twent  ter  ?" 

"Deacon,  I  still  deny  any  knowledge  of  the  where- 
abouts of  your  money.  I  am  not  a  child,  that  I  should 
account  to  you  for  everything  I  do.  It's  none  of  your 
business  what  I  did  in  Chinatown." 

"-Money!  What  money,  pa?"  inquired  Simon,  with 
great  apparent  astonishment. 

"  Why,  some  one  hez  been  astealin'  money  from  the 
office,"  replied  Deacon  Spud. 


Job's  Perfidy.  41 

"That  accounts  for  it,  then.  I  wondered  where  Job 
got  so  much  as  Ah  Chung  says  he  lost  there  to-night,"' 
said  Simon. 

Job's  temper  was  just  rising,  and  he  was  afraid  he 
should  be  compelled  to  treat  Simon  as  he  did  Ah  Chung, 
so  he  hastily  put  on  his  hat,  and  darted  out  of  the  house. 


42  Simon  Spud  Secures  a  Witness. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

SIMON  SPUD   SECURES  A  WITNESS. 

IT  did  not  take  as  long  for  Sime  Spud  to  familiarize  his 
eyes  with  the  darkness,  nor  his  nose  with  the  smells  of  the 
black  hole  into  which  he  darted,  as  it  did  Job  Stearns.  It 
was  an  old  story  to  him ;  he  had  been  there  before.  The 
Chinaman  to  whom  Job  had  just  imparted  some  civilizing 
information,  was  sitting  with  an  angry  scowl  upon  his  face 
brooding  over  the  thorough  whipping  he  had  just  received. 

A  Chinaman,  like  the  redskin,  never  forgets  either  a 
real  or  a  fancied  injury.  Revenge  is  strongly  ingrafted  in 
their  nature.  Their  revenge  is  usually  as  mean  and  treach- 
erous as  that  of  the  meanest  Digger  Indian.  They  can 
smile  in  your  face  while  they  pour  poison  into  your  cup. 
So  Ah  Chung  —  for  such  was  the  name  of  Bessie's  prom- 
ising pupil  —  was  at  this  moment  meditating  revenge  upon 
Job  Stearns. 

One  could  see  that  some  pleasing  imaginations  of  his 
enemy's  discomfort  were  flitting  through  his  brain,  by  the 
strange  contortions  of  his  facial  muscles.  Whether  his 
dreams  of  revenge  consisted  of  plans  for  the  use  of  the 
silent  knife,  or  whether  he  simply  meditated  upon  the  plan 
of  requesting  Ling  Yung,  the  washman,  to  cut  off  the  shirt- 
buttons  of  all  the  friends  of  Job,  would  be  a  difficult  thing 
for  a  white  man  to  decide.  Anyway,  he  meditated  re- 
venge; and  the  more  he  meditated  the  fiercer  became  his 
scowl,  the  tighter  the  clasp  of  his  doubled-up  fist. 


Simon  Spud  Secures  a  Witness.  43 

Simon  Spud  came  in  at  this  opportune  moment. 

"Hello,  Chung!  how  you  do,  eh?" 

"  Oh,  me  feel  bad,  me  killee  some  one,"  replied  Ah 
Chung. 

"  Oh,  guess-not.     What's  the  matter  ?"  inquired  Simon. 

"  You  sabe  big  man,  he  mashee  taters,  eh  ?" 

"  Yes,  me  know  him." 
.  "  All  light — well,  he  catchee  me,  he  putee  head  on  me." 

"  You  foolee  me,"  said  Simon. 

"You  lie,  me  no  foolee  you.  He  come  here,  he 
knockee  me  down,  he  battee  my  eye — you  see,  look — 
you  see  /"  screamed  Ah  Chung,  and  he  got  up  and  walked 
furiously  round  the  room  shaking  his  fist  at  an  imaginary 
Job  Stearns. 

"  Why  you  no  killee  him  ?"  laughed  Simon,  with  a 
wicked  look  in  his  eyes. 

"  Me  killee  him,  shelliffkillee  me,"  responded  Ah  Chung. 

"You  bet,  that's  so,  Chung;  but  see  here,  me  show  you 
how  you  pay  him  back,  you  do  it  ?" 

"  You  show  me,  you  tellee  me,  me  do  it." 

"Job  he  knocked  you  down,  he  takee  your  woman 
here,  he  stay  long  time,  he  play  gamble  game,  you  sabe  ?" 
inquired  the  wily  Simon. 

"Yeah,"  nodded  Chung. 

"You  comee  bymeby,  you  tellee  lot  men  so,  you  swear 
to  it  ?" 

"  Yeah,  me  tellee,  me  sweree.' 

"  All  right,  me  payee  you  ten  dollar." 


44  Simon  Spud  Secures  a  Witness. 

"  Me  sabe,"  grinned  Chung,  and  Simon  had  secured  his 
witness. 

"Now  we  have  game  cards,  and  I  beatee  you,"  said 
Simon. 

"  No,  me  beatee  you,  you  see." 

Ah  Chung  brought  out  the  cards,  and  seated  at  the 
greasy  table,  they  began  to  play.  In  a  few  minutes  a  little 
pile  of  money  began  to  accumulate  in  the  center.  Ah 
Chung  won  it.  Again  they  went  at  it,  and  again  Ah 
Chung  won.  Simon  Spud  showed  no  concern;  either  he 
was  used  to  losing,  or  he  was  playing  for  higher  stakes,  not 
on  the  table.  Perhaps  he  wished  to  conciliate  the  venge- 
ful Chung,  to  win  him  the  more  thoroughly  to  his  plans. 

They  played  until  Simon  had  emptied  his  purse,  still 
without  expressing  any  disapprobation  then  he  took  his 
hat  to  leave,  playfully  pulling  Chung's  ear  as  he  said :  "  You 
no  forget,  Job  he  stay  long  time,  he  gamble,  you  swear." 

"All  light,  good  bye,"  said  Chung. 

Ah  Chung  stopped  for  a  moment  after  Simon  Spud  had 
gone,  to  place  the  money  carefully  in  his  purse,  and  then, 
with  a  satisfied  smile,  walked  out  the  door.  He  had 
scarcely  reached  the  street,  when  the  little  figure  of  the 
Chinawoman  dropped  quietly  out  of  one  of  the  bunks 
where  she  had  been  ensconced,  a  quiet  listener  to  the 
parley. 

"  He  beatee  me  with  pickee  handle;  me  no  forget.  Me 
play  game  card,  now,"  she  muttered,  as  she  watched  the 
retreating  forms  of  Chung  and  Simon. 


SIMON  SECURES  A  WITNESS 


The  Wedge  Advances.  45 

CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   WEDGE    ADVANCES. 

THE  next  morning  after  Job  had  made  known  his  wish 
to  board  there,  the  Widow  Caldwell  and  her  daughter  be- 
gan to  make  preparations  for  him. 

"This  will  help  us  amazingly,  Bessie,"  said  the  happy 
woman.  "  His  board  will  at  least  keep  us  from  debt." 

"Yes,  mother;  and  then,  you  know,  we  can  buy  our 
vegetables  of  Mr.  Carrot.  He  comes  every  other  day,  and 
he  will  let  us  have  them  cheap,"  said  Bessie. 

The  best  room  was  cleaned,  swept  and  dusted,  the 
prettiest  counterpane  put  on  the  bed,  and  Bessie  secretly 
transferred  considerable  finery  for  the  walls  from  her  own 
room. 

While  they  were  engaged  in  arranging  his  room,  there 
came  a  knock  at  the  kitchen-door. 

Bessie  went  down.  There  stood  a  Chinaman  with  two 
huge  baskets  slung  upon  a  pole  over  his  shoulder. 

"How  do!" 

"  How  do  you  do,  John!"  said  Bessie. 

"  You  sabe  Ah  Chung  ?" 

"Yes,  I  know  him,"  said  Bessie. 

"  Ah  Chung,  he  my  cousin.  I  sellee  you  'taters,  gleen 
con,  eh  ?" 

"Oh,  you've  got  vegetables!"  said  Bessie. 

"  Yeah;    me  sellee  him  cheap,"  said   the  Chinaman, 


46  The  Wedge  Advances, 

holding  up  a  bunch  of  onions,  and  displaying  his  green 
corn  and  potatoes  at  the  same  time. 

"  How  cheap  ?"  asked  Bessie. 

"  Oh,  heap  cheapee.  Other  man  he  takee  two  bittee, 
I  sellee  him  one  bittee." 

Just  then  a  ranch  wagon  drove  up  to  the  gate. 

"  Hold  on,  Bessie,  don't  buy  of  him,  I  want  to  supply 
my  neighbors  myself." 

It  was  Mr.  Carrot  with  his  market  wagon. 

"  But  he  says  he  can  undersell  you,"  laughed  Bessie. 

"The  d — ab — I  beg  pardon,  miss,  but  these  fellows 
don't  give  a  man  a  chance  to  live.  What  was  he  going  to 
sell  you  ?" 

"  A  bunch  of  onions  for  a  bit,"  said  Bessie,  laughing 
again. 

"  A  bunch  of  onions  for  a  bit  I  Here,  I'll  sell  you  a  sack 
for  two  bits.  How  you  likee  that,  John,  eh  ?"  said  Car- 
rot, turning  angrily  to  John. 

"  All  light;  you  sellee  for  two  bittee  one  sack  to-day, 
to-mollow  you  come,  you  takee  two  bittee  one  bunch. 
Me  sabe,"  said  the  John. 

"No,  I'll  be  d — excuse  me — get  out  of  this!  git!"  he 
cried,  as  he  gave  the  Chinaman  a  little  help  with- his  big 
farm-boots. 

"  But,  Mr.  Carrot,  why  should  not  he  sell  for  much  less 
than  you,  if  he  wants  to  ?"  inquired  Bessie. 

"  Bessie,  it's  a  long  story  to  tell,  but  let  me  explain. 


The  Wedge  Advances.  47 

We  came  here  and  worked  hard  to  make  our  land  pro- 
duce, Ave  built  this  town  up,  we  created  the  factories,  and 
we  deserve  the  profit  to  come  from  it.  These  men  sell 
cheaper,  but  don't  they  cheapen  wages  also  ?  Why,  if 
you  get  three  dollars  a  day,  can't  you  afford  to  pay  two 
bits  for  a  bunch  of  onions  ?  But  if  these  heathen,  by 
underselling  their  labor,  lower  your  wages,  you  can't  do 
it.  They  can  live  for  three  days  on  what  won't  keep  you 
or  me  one.  This  is  a  white  man's  country.  Let's  keep 
wages  up  and  get  a  fair  price  for  our  provisions." 

"  But  what's  the  difference,  Mr.  Carrot  ?  I  don't  under- 
stand. If  Chinamen  bring  down  wages,  they  bring  down 
prices  also." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Carrot,  "  bring  wages  down  to  their 
level.     I  tell  you,  again,  a  white  man  cannot  live  on  their  f. 
level.     God  help  us  if  we  must  herd  like  Chinamen  to 
please  the  moneyed  men  of  California!" 

"  It's  a  deeper  question  than  I  can  comprehend,"  said 
Bessie. 

"Yes,"  replied  Carrot,  "and  it  will  be  too  deep  for  the 
laboring  class  to  understand  so  long  as  our  capitalists  hedge 
it  about  with  so  much  sophistry.  Anyhow,  you  tell 
mother  to  buy  of  me,  and  she  shan't  lose  by  it." 

This  matter  of  peddling  ranch  produce  had  indeed  be- 
come serious  in  Yarbtown.     The  price  of  everything  in/' 
the  farm  line  had  been  so  lowered  by  the  Chinese  that  any 


48  The  Wedge  Advances, 

man  who  wished  to  make  a  respectable  living  at  that  busi- 
ness, found  it  up-hill  work. 

"  Well,  isn't  that  all  right  ?"  asks  a  Peggy  Sproul,  from 
his  counting-room  in  San  Francisco.  "  If  they  can  do  it 
and  our  people  won't,  why  not  encourage  them,  hey?" 

Ay!  ay!  but  the  Chinamen  are  not  confined  to  one 
kind  of  work;  if  they  were,  then  our  working  people  could 
quit  that  and  turn  to  something  else.  They  can  do  any- 
thing. They  follow  our  hard-working  people  close  on 
their  heels,  steal  their  trades,  cheapen  labor,  and  then  sit 
down  to  a  dinner  of  rice  and  potato  sprouts,  such  as  a 
hearty  white  would  starve  on. 

The  natural  result  of  such  a  course  of  things  will  be  to 
degrade  the  working  classes  of  the  United  States  to  the 
level  of  the  Chinese,  in  their  manner  of  living,  in  dress, 
in  food,  in  morals,  in  even-thing,  and  will  bring  into  being 
a  marked  separation  of  the  people  into  castes. 

Here  was  Mrs.  Caldwell,  for  instance.  She  had  made 
only  such  charges  for  her  work  as  gave  her  a  decent  living. 
John  Chinaman  does  it  for  just  one-half  this  amount. 
What  shall  she  do  ?  She  cannot  live  on  as  little  as  John. 
Sew  ?  She  never  could  do  that,  and  besides,  the  sewing- 
machine  is  beyond  her  reach  at  present.  Take  boarders  ? 
Exactly;  she  was  intending  to  do  exactly  that  thing,  for, 
thank  God,  we  have  hardly  yet  fallen  so  low  as  to  patron- 
ize a  Chinese  boarding-house. 

This  outcry  against  the  cheap  labor  of  the  Chinese  has 


The  Wedge  Advances.  49 

been  compared  to  the  opposition  raised  by  English  me- 
chanics to  the  labor-saving  machinery  introduced  among 
them.  There  is  no  comparison.  Men  and  muscle  must 
be  had  to  make  and  run  these  machines,  but  Chinamen, 
pshaw !  they  are  ready-made  by  millions. 


50  Job  before  the  Church. 

CHAPTER  X. 

JOB   BEFORE   THE   CHURCH. 

Deacon  Spud  was  not  quite  so  bad  a  man  as  Job  had 
supposed  him  to  be.  Crafty  he  was;  grasping,  mean  and 
stingy  he  certainly  gave  evidence  of  being. 

Job  had  seen  pretty  clearly  the  wily  deacon's  plans  for  the 
future.  The  starch-manufacturing  business  had  been  de- 
veloped shrewdly,  until  it  had  attained  to  what  the  Yarb- 
town  people  considered  collossal.  Fruit-drying  and  can- 
ning, broom-making,  and  box-manufacturing  were  all  car- 
ried on  under  the  deacon's  supervision,  and  by  his  capi- 
tal. The  wages  of  the  workmen  under  Job  had  formerly 
been  two  dollars  and  a  half  per  day;  the  deacon,  after 
much  whining  about  hard*- times,  had  cut  off  the  half-dol- 
lar. Several  times  the  agent  for  the  Chinese  company  had 
been  in  and  over  the  works.  Once  he  had  brought  with 
him  several  of  his  countrymen. 

Job  had  noticed  all  this,  and  the  suspicion  was  a  natural 
one  that  the  old  game  of  freezing  out  the  white  men  was 
to  be  played  over  by  Deacon  Spud. 

That  Spud  had,  however,  willfully  and  maliciously 
charged  Job  with  the  theft  of  money  for  the  purpose  of 
disgracing  him,  is  too  grave  a  suspicion  to  entertain  for  a 
moment.  That  he  gladly  hailed  the  advent  of  any  pretext 
for  discharging  Job,  there  can  be  no  doubt. 

Deacon  Spud's  conscience  was  not  a  tender  one;  it  was 


Job  before  the  Church.  51 

very  elastic;  a  great  many  bright  tints  enlivened  its  out- 
ward show,  but  there  was  no  leading  color.  There  were 
ditches,  with  mud-settlers  attached,  running  down  the  foot- 
hills above  the  valley  of  Yarbtown,  and  perhaps  the  deacon 
had  learned  a  lesson  from  them.  The  ditches  run  for 
miles  full  of  mud  from  the  diggings,  and  then  pause  at  the 
mud-settler,  deposit  a  little  mud,  and  go  on  to  the  next, 
going  through  the  same  operation  at  intervals.  The  deacon 
collected  a  good  bit  of  mud  in  the  course  of  the  week  in 
his  heart,  and  paused  on  Sunday  to  settle  a  little — then  run 
on  to  the  next  Sabbath,  and  so  on.  The  good  man  flat- 
tered himself  that  in  this  way  he  kept  his  conscience  clear. 
Since  Job's  visit  to  his  house,  the  deacon  had  met  Sister 
Peggy  Sproul  and  several  of  the  good  people  of  ultra  views 
connected  with  the  society,  and"  they  determined  to  bring 
the  sinful  Job  to  an  account  before  the  church. 

Charges  had  been  preferred  against  him,  and  a  notice  of 
them  duly  served  upon  him.  These  charges  were  various. 
Failure  to  interest  himself  in  the  welfare  of  Zion,  yielding 
to  a  passionate  temper,  gambling  and  being  in  a  low  state 
of  morals  generally,  all  were  presented  as  sufficient  to  ex- 
clude him  from  God's  family.  The  good,  pious  Brother 
Smudgins,  and  be  it  said  he  loved  Job  and  believed  in 
him,  had  appointed  an  afternoon  to  try  the  case.  A  com- 
mittee had  been  selected  to  act  as  jury,  some  bitterly 
prejudiced  against  Job,  and  some  favorably  disposed. 

Job  was  popular,  and  his  openly-expressed  distrust  of 


52  Job  before  the  Church. 

the  Chinamen  had  bound  the  working  people  closely  to 
him. 

Job  Stearns  had  chosen  to  conduct  his  own  defense. 
Brother  Slowly  had  been  selected  to  conduct  the  prosecu- 
tion. "It  gave  him  much  pain,"  he  said,  "to  be  placed 
in  such  a  position  as  to  seem  instrumental  in  destroying 
the  Christian  character  of  one  whom  they  had  long  known; 
but  he  owed  his  first  duty  to  God,  and,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, he  should  waive  all  affection,  and  adhere 
dutifully  to  the  task  assigned  him."  He  then  read  the 
charges  for  the  pastor,  and  the  reverend  gentleman  smiled 
in  a  friendly  way  upon  Job,  as  he  asked  what  he  had  to 
say  to  them. 

Job  simply  answered:  "The  charges  are  false,  abso- 
lutely false." 

Peggy  Sproul  closed  her  eyes  in  meek  submission,  for 
the  present,  to  the  perfidy  of  the  man. 

Mr.  Slowly  then  presented  a  sketch  of  what  he  proposed 
to  prove,  and  gave  way  for  Job's  turn. 

Mr.  Stearns  begged  to  be  excused  until  such  time  as  the 
apparent  facts  presented  should  demand  his  attention. 
Mr.  Slowly  then  called  Simon  Spud  to  the  stand. 

"  You  are  a  member  of  this  church,  Mr.  Spud  ? " 

"  No,  sir,  I  am  not,"  answered  Sime. 

"Are  you  willing  to  make  a  solemn  affirmation  that 
what  you  are  to  say  shall  be  the  truth,  and  the  whole 
truth  ? " 


Job  before  the  Church.  53 

"You  b — ,  yes,  sic,  I  mean." 

"  Tell  what  you  know  of  a  certain  visit  of  Brother  Job 
Stearns  to  Chinatown." 

Simon  then  went  through  his  story,  still  adhering  to  the 
statements  made  to  his  father. 

"  Who  was  this  woman  ? " 

"  She  was  a  woman  who  is  the  property  of  Ah  Chung." 

"Has  she  a  good  character ? " 

"  No,  sir;  she  is  a  bad  woman." 

"  Did  Brother  Stearns  stay  in  the  gambling  h — house 
long  enough  to  play  a  game  ? " 

"  Yes,  over  an  hour." 

"  That'll  do,  Mr.  Spud.  Brother  Stearns,  you  can  ques- 
tion him." 

"Sime,  you've  told  the  truth  so  far,"  said  Job,  "let  us 
see  if  you  can  stick  to  it.  You  saw  me  walk  down  street 
with  the  Chinawoman;  did  you  see  the  contemptible  fight 
which  preceded  it  ? " 

"  I  saw  Ah  Chung  trying  to  get  her  from  you,  and  you 
nearly  killed  him,"  answered  Simon,  boldly. 

"Did  you  not  know  that  Ah  Chung  had  beaten  her 
with  a  pick-handle,  and  .that  I  went  down  with  her  to  pro- 
tect her  ? " 

"No,  didn't  see  anything  of  the  sort,"  replied  Simon 
Spud. 

"  You  said  the  woman  is  a  bad  one;  how  do  you  know  ? " 

"  Why,  I — I  should  say  everybody  says  so,"  stammered 
Simon. 


54  Job  before  the  Church. 

"  Oh,  everybody  says  so !  Do  you  know  what  her 
character  is  ? "  asked  Job,  fiercely. 

"  No,  only  by  what  people  say." 

"  Did  you  see  me  play  a  game  of  cards  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  did,"  asserted  Spud. 

"That's  all,"  said  Job. 

Ah  Chung  was  the  next  witness  called.  He  came  up 
with  a  vacant  stare  on  his  face,  and  turned  to  Mr.  Slowly. 

"Ah  Chung,  will  you  affirm,  on  your  honor,  that  you  will 
tell  the  truth  and  the  whole  truth  ?"  asked  Slowly. 
•     "  Me  no  got  him  honor,"  replied  Chung. 

"No,  I  guess  not,"  muttered  Job. 

After  the  committee  had  repossessed  themselves  of  the 
proper  gravity,  Slowly  tried  again. 

"  Will  you  promise  faithfully  to  tell  the  truth  ? " 

"  Where  'um  Facefullee,  me  no  see  him  ? "  said  Chung, 
looking  around  with  a  wondering,  imbecile  look. 

"Hold  on,  Mr.  Slowly,"  shouted  Simon  Spud,  in  the 
midst  of  the  laughter  which  followed  this  sally,  "  let  me 
try." 

"If  Brother  Stearns  don't  object,"  mildly  interposed 
the  pastor. 

"Oh,  go  ahead;  we  can  all  hear  him,"  said  Job. 

With  this  permission,  Simon  proceeded'. 

"  You  sabe,  you  Chung,  you  swearee  ? " 

"Yeah,  me  sabe,"  grinned  the  rascal. 

"  You  sabe  what  'um  swearee  is  ? " 


Job  before  the  Church.  55 

"  Yeah,"  said  Chung,  grinning  until  all  his  teeth  shone 
out  from  his  projecting  lips.  "  Yeah,  him  one  bigee  G — d 
d — ee." 

This  brought  down  the  moderator,  attorneys,  jury,  and 
all.  Simon  did  not  give  up  the  attempt  though. 

"  You  sabe  Mellican  man  Josh  ? " 

"Yeah." 

"You  sabe  what  he  do  to  you  if  you  tellee  lie  now ?" 

"Yeah;  Melican  man  Josh  gimme  h — 1  if  I  tellee  lie." 

"There,  there,  Brother  Slowly,  that  ought  to  satisfy  the 
most  particular  jurist,"  laughed  the  pastor. 

"  Now,  friends,  I  don't  feel  satisfied  with  such  a  witness; 
that  is  no  expression  of  an  understanding  of  the  nature  of 
an  oath,"  said  Job.  "  Is  this  the  kind  of  testimony  you 
are  about  to  try  my  character  on  ?  A  Chinaman,  a  heathen,  / 
who  has  no  notions  of  accountability;  no  comprehension 
of  a  good  and  just  God  ?  It's  insulting  to  the  good  sense 
of  the  people  of  Yarbtown  to  think,  for  a  moment,  of  bal- 
ancing his  word  against  mine." 

Sister  Sproul  had  been  fidgeting  about  in  her  chair  for 
some  time,  on  the  alert  to  fly  to  the  defense  of  her  pet 
hobby.  When  Job  expressed  his  opinion  of  the  value  of 
Ah  Chung's  testimony  in  so  open  a  manner,  the  good 
woman  flew  to  her  feet  and  screamed : 

"Brother  Chung  hez  bin  teached  by  Sister  Bessie  Cald- 
well  fer  a  long  time.  He  will  tell  the  truth.  He  hez  fer 
some  time  bin  free  from  the  bonds  o'  Satan.  You  ken 
trust  him,  brethering." 


5 6  Job  before  the  Church. 

"  I  believe  Sister  Sproul  is  only  a  witness  in  this  case, 
and  I  object  to  her  interference  in  the  defense,"  remarked 
Job;  "  I  wish  to  see  some  evidence  on  the  part  of  Chung 
that  he  will  not  deliberately  lie  all  through  his  testimony. 
I  know  he  will  beat  a  woman,  and  a  man  who  will  do  that 
will  lie." 

"  Job,  suppose  you  question  him,"  said  the  moderator; 
"perhaps  you  can  get  something  out  of  him." 

"  I've  no  objections,"  said  Job.  "  Chung,  what  you 
mean  by  '  gimme  h — 1  ?' " 

"  Oh,  you  sabe !  You  gimme  h — 1  one  day." 

"  Oh,  that's  it,  is  it;  you  think  Melican  man  Josh  will 
pound  you,  eh?" 

"Yeah,  that  so." 

"  Where  is  Melican  man  Josh  ? " 

"Oh,  I  dunno;  him  keep  him,  hey?"  inquired  Chung, 
pointing  to  the  pastor. 

This  was  more  than  even  the  Rev.  Brother  Smudgins 
could  bear;  he  forgot  the  dignity  of  the  occasion;  he  for- 
got the  sanctity  of  the  place,  and  hailed  this  remark  with 
a  hearty  guffaw. 

"  I  really  think,  brethren,  that  this  witness  is  hardly  com- 
petent/' he  suggested,  after  the  laugh  subsided  a  little. 

Brother  Slowly  thought  differently. 

"  If  we  refuse  to  right  this  man's  wrongs  by  refusing  to 
take  his  account  of  the  affair,  we  might  as  well  bid  fare- 
well to  all  hopes  of  influence  over  them." 


Job  before  the  Church.  57 

Parson  Smudgins  objected  to  him,  Job  strenuously  put 
in  his  objection,  and  several  of  the  committee  sided  with 
them;  but  the  majority  carried  the  day,  and  Mr.  Slowly 
proceeded  with  the  examination. 

"  Mr.  Chung,  did  you  ever  see  this  man  before  ? "  point- 
ing to  Job. 

'•'Yeah;  me  see  him,  me  feelee  him." 

"  Where  did  you  see  him  ? " 

"You  sabe,  down  Chinatown." 

"What  did  he  do?" 

"  He  takee  my  woman,  he  beatee  me,  he  go  gamble; 
Ah  Sing  he  catchee  lot  money;  I  got  him  allee  here,"  pat- 
ting his  pocket  vigorously. 

"  You  have  the  money  he  gambled  with  ?  Well,  give 
it  to  the  moderator." 

"Oh,  no!  I  keepee  him.  He  my  money.  You  no 
catchee  him  so.  You  come  play  card;  you  catchee  him 
then,  maybe,"  said  Chung,  grinning  like  a  pleased  mon- 
key. 

"  He'll  give  it  back  to  you." 

"Oh,  no;  you  sabe;  you  wantee  see  him,  well  you 
lookee  bymby." 

"  How  much  money  was  there  ? " 

"  Oh,  maybe  thirtee  dar." 

"How  long  did  Job  stay  in  the  gambling-house ?" 

"Job?  Me  no  sabe — he  allee  same  man  scratchee  self 
with  possheld,  eh  ?  Missee  Colwel  she  tellee  me." 


58  Job  before  the  Church. 

"No,  no!  not  that  Job.  I  mean  this  man;  how  long 
did  he  stay  ? '' 

"  Long  time;  maybe  two  hour." 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  have  anything  more  to  ask  the  wit- 
ness. All  I  wished  was  to  prove  that  Brother  Stearns  did 
go  there,  and  stay  and  gamble,"  said  Mr.  Slowly. 

"  \Vell,  sir,  /  have  some  questions  to  ask  him,"  said  Job, 
contemptuously. 


The  Trial  Continued.  59 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE   TRIAL   CONTINUED. 

"  Will  you  tell  these  men  why  I  took  your  -woman  from 
you.  Ah  Chung  ? "  said  Job. 

"Idunno;  you  wantee  her,  you  takee  her,"  replied 
Chung. 

"  Were  you  not  beating  her  ? " 

"  Me ?  oh,  no!  She  comee  to  me;  she  bringee  pickee- 
handle;  she  tellee  me, '  you  sclatchee  back,'  so  me  sclatchee; 
you  come  in,  you  beatee  me." 

" He  lie!  he  lie! "  screamed  a  female  voice  in  the  back 
of  the  vestry.  Everybody  turned  to  see  whose  it  was. 
The  head  of  Ah  Chung's  woman  poked  itself  up  from  be- 
hind a  settee,  where  she  was  hiding. 

"  'A  Daniel  come  to  judgment/  perhaps,"  suggested  the 
moderator,  with  a  smile. 

Ah  Chung  was  about  to  rush  back  to  the  woman,  when 
Job  Stearns  caught  him  by  the  queue. 

"  No,  sir,  you  don't  go  until  you've  unsaid  some  things 
you've  said  here,"  he  muttered,  through  his  clenched  teeth. 

"He  beatee  me;  this  man  he  come,  he  savee  me.  Ah 
Chung  he  big  liar! "  screamed  the  woman  again. 

"  Bring  her  forward,  Job,  if  you  wish  to,"  said  the  mod- 
erator. 

"  No,  sir,  not  I.     If  I  can't  prove  my  innocence  without 


60  The  Trial  Continued. 

the  testimony  of  a  Chinawoman,  you  may  believe  what 
you  like  about  me." 

"Littlee  man — young  Spudee — he  play  my  man  game; 
he  leavee  lot  money!"  screamed  the  irrepressible  China- 
woman again. 

"She's  bound  to  testify  anyhow,  Job;  you  had  better 
bring  her  forward,  and  let  us  hear  her,"  said  the  pastor 
again. 

"  My  word,  sir,  I  claim,  is  worth  that  of  a  dozen  China- 
men, and  if  these  brethren  will  not  take  it,  I  shall  not 
bolster  it  up  with  the  word  of  a  heathen." 

"  Me  see  him,  Spudee,  gamble.  He  leavee  lot  money. 
This  man  he  no  play.  Spudee  he  pay  my  man  ten  dar, 
he  comee  here,  he  tellee  lie,"  squealed  the  little  China- 
woman again. 

"  Brother  Stearns,  you  must  either  bring  that  woman  up 
here  in  the  regular  way  or  put  her  out." 

"Put  her  out  then,"  said  Job  carelessly. 

Deacon  Spud  was  on  his  feet  in  a  moment.  He  grasped 
the  woman  by  the  shoulder,  and  marched  her  toward  the 
door,  she  shouting  all  the  time:  "Yeah — me  heapee  sabe 
— you  no  wantee  me — he  your  boy — you  no  wantee  me 
tellee  allee  I  know — all  light,  bym-by.  He  big  liar!  He 
big  liar!"  she  yelled,  as  the  vestry  door  closed  upon  her. 

"Was  that  your  woman,  Chung?"  asked  Job,  as  she 
went  out. 

"Yeah;  she  mine." 


The  Trial  Continued.  61 

"  What  do  you  mean !     Is  she  your  slave  ? " 

"  She  mine.     I  payee  for  seven  year." 

"  I've  nothing  more  to  say,"  said  Job.  "A  Chinaman, 
a  liar,  a  beater  of  women,  and  an  owner  of  slaves  held  for 
immoral  purposes;  he's  your  witness,  not  mine." 

Deacon  Spud  was  called  and  gave  his  account  of  the 
missing  money.  Job  would  make  no  more  defense.  He 
was  disheartened,  disgusted,  and  in  fact,  he  cared  but  little 
how  the  case  went,  so  bigoted  and  determined  were  his 
enemies.  The  charges  were  read  to  the  committee,  one 
by  one,  and  upon  all  of  them  a  great  majority  voted  / 
"guilty."  Great  indignation  was  expressed  about  town 
when  the  news  reached  the  people  that  Job  Stearns  was 
expelled  from  the  church,  for  such  was  the  result  of  the 
trial.  Job  was  a  general  favorite,  and  as  he  was  a  martyr 
in  the  cause  of  the  people,  he  became  a  hero,  doubly  a 
hero  when  it  became  known  that  he  might  have  saved 
himself  by  accepting  the  testimony  of  the  Chinawoman. 

Everybody  was  surprised  that  any  sensible  man  should 
have  considered  Job  guilty  after  such  revelations  as  were 
made  by  Ah  Chung's  woman,  and  yet  surprised  as  they 
were,  they  could  not  fail  to  perceive  that  it  was  one  victory 
for  the  Chinese.  Should  they  allow  them  to  score  an- 
other ?  Should  they  keep  still  until  the  pick,  the  shovel, 
ihe  plow  were  taken  from  their  hands  ?  Of  course  the  ex- 
pulsion of  Job  from  the  church  meant  his  discharge  from 
the  superintendency  of  the  factories,  if  it  meant  anything, 


62  The  Trial  Continued. 

and  of  course  the  dismissal  of  Job  was  to  be  only  the  fore- 
runner of  a  gradual  discharging  of  the  workmen  and  the 
employment  of  Chinese.  Deacon  Spud  soon  relieved  them 
of  all  doubt  on  that  subject,  by  politely  informing  Job  that 
"  of  course  his  services  at  the  mill  were  at  an  end." 

The  tide  of  popular  excitement  ran  high.  Dire  threats 
were  made  against  the  Chinamen.  It  was  not  considered 
a  church  matter  at  all;  it  was  a  high-handed  outrage  upon 
all  decent  people.  The  word  of  a  Chinaman  had  been 
xx  taken  in  lieu  of  that  of  a  respectable,  laboring  white  man, 
and  therefore  all  laboring  white  men  were  indignant. 

The  champion  of  the  laboring  class  had  become  a  mar- 
tyr, therefore  the  laboring  class  was  furious.  The  matter 
of  the  stolen  money  was  not  again  referred  to.  Deacon 
Spud  was  not  anxious  for  a  legal  investigation  of  the  matter 
in  a  place  where  the  Chinese  were  handled  without  fear 
or  favor.  The  revelations  given,  so  inopportunely  for  him, 
by  the  Chinese  woman,  opened  his  eyes  a  trifle,  and  per- 
haps it  was  well  for  Simon  Spud  that  it  was  so. 

Job's  friends  were  not  disposed  to  let  the  matter  drop, 
and  urged  him  to  compel  the  deacon  to  retract  the  charge 
of  theft.  Job,  however,  declared  that  he  should  do  noth- 
ing about  it  unless  the  deacon  continued  to  adhere  to  such 
an  outrageous  course,  or  tried  to  shield  his  son  Simon  by 
casting  the  odium  on  him.  There  was  a  harder  trial  in 
store  for  Job,  however,  than  he  had  yet  undergone.  Peggy 
Sproul  hastened,  the  moment  the  trial  of  Job  was  over, 


The  Trial  Continued.  63 

to  Mrs.  Caldwcll's.  She  found  that  lady  sitting,  disconso- 
lately brooding  over  the  rumors  which  had  come  to  her 
concerning  Job,  and  wondering,  in  her  fond  mother's 
heart,  how  she  should  treat  the  matter  so  far  as  it  affected 
the  happiness  of  her  daughter  Bessie. 

The  good  lady  had  had  her  lesson  from  the  Chinese, 
and  she  sympathized  with  Job  in  that  matter,  but  she  had, 
nevertheless,  great  confidence  in  the  wisdom  and  justice 
of  the  brethren  of  the  church,  and  she  could  not  believe 
they  would,  without  sufficient  cause,  sever  the  connection 
between  Job  and  the  society. 

What  should  she  do  ?  Certainly  her  daughter  must  no 
longer  receive  the  attentions  of  a  man  who  could  so  basely 
lower  himself  in  the  moral  scale.  Peggy  Sproul  threw 
her  arms  about  Sister  Caldwell,  and  a  few  hard-pressed, 
perhaps  earnest,  tears  rolled  down  upon  the  widow's 
shoulder. 

"  'Tez  all  come  out  ez  I  'spected,  Sister  Caldwell.  Down, 
down,  down,  thet  mistaken  young  man  hez  gone,  till  now, 
the  last  Angul  uv  Merssy  hez  a  left  him." 

"  What  does  it  all  mean,  Sister  Sproul  ?  Can  it  be  that 
Job  has  done  this  wicked  thing  ?  I  have  known  him  from 
boyhood  up,  and  I  can't  believe  it,"  replied  the  weeping 
widow. 

"  Why,  how  ken  it  be  thet  he  didn't  do  it,"  said  Peggy. 
"  Brother  Spud's  unly  son  sez  he  saw  him.  Simon  hez 
bin  teeched  by  pius  parents,  he  never  hez  telled  a  lie,  he 


64  The  Trial  Continued. 

is  'zemplary  en  all  things.  Then  thet  good,  promising 
young  brother  from  Chiny — the  one,  you  know,  your  darter 
hez  so  int'rested  herself  in — he  sez  he  saw  him.  Brother 
Stearns  hez  northing  ter  say.  His  conshunse  troubles  him. 
Ah,  my  sister,  he's  clean  gone.  Thar's  no  hope." 

"  Did  he  have  a  fair  trial  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Caldwell. 

"  Oh-h-h,  yes.  He  seemed  a  kinder  tryin'  to  work  on 
their  symp'thies  by  hidin'  that  'ar  wicked  Chinawoman  in 
the  vestry,  so'st  she  cud  speak  out  when  he  wanted  on  her; 
but  la !  'twan't  no  airthly  use,  they  saw  through  it  in  a  mo- 
ment, an'  Brother  Spud  he  jest  yanked  her  out'n  thet  in 
the  twinklin'  uv.an  eye,"  responded  Peggy. 

"  Oh,  how  could  Job  do  such  treacherous,  such  mean 
things  ?"  said  the  widow. 

"Of  course  that's  an  end  ter  all  his  courtin'  on  your 
gal,  I  s'pose  ? "  suggested  Peggy. 

"  I  hardly  think  it  ever  had  gone  so  far  as  to  amount  tc 
courting,  Sister  Sproul,"  said  the  widow,  stiffly. 

"  They  say  he  hez  bin  payin'  on  her  attentions  fer  a  long 
time." 

"  Tis  true  he  has  been  intimate  with  us,  but  I  fancy  I 
have  been  too  careful  to  permit  it  to  go  to  any  serious 
lengths.  Anyway,  my  daughter  will  not  break  her  hean. 
over  such  a  man  as  Job  Stearns  has  proved  himself  to  be." 

Carefully,  carefully,  Mrs.  Caldwell !  That  flinty-hearted 
young  damsel  is  this  moment  vigorously  defending  Job,  to 
the  confusion  of  Simon  Spud,  out  at  the  back-gate.  That 


The  Trial  Continued.  65 

miscreant  had  taken  no  chances  upon  the  possibility  of 
Job  seeing  Bessie  first,  and  had  called  at  the  back-gate  to 
retail  his  budget  of  news, 

"  They've  done  for  him  at  last,  Bessie/'  said  he;  "  he  put 
the  last  straw  on  the  camel's  back  when  he  played  the  gal- 
lant to  that  woman  of  Chung's." 

"Simon  Spud,"  asserted  Bessie,  "if  Job  Stearns  was  / 
seen  in  places  where  a  good  man  ought  not  to  be,  he  had 
good  reasons  for  it.     You  can't  say  as  much  for  yourself. 
What  were  you  doing  in  Chinatown  that  you  were  on  hand 
to  witness  all  this  ?  " 

"  Me  ?  Oh,  perhaps  I  had  good  reasons,  too,  Miss  Bes- 
sie," replied  Simon. 

"  I  don't  believe  anything  good  took  you  down  there, 
and  I  don't  believe  anything  bad  took  Job  there." 

"No;  of  course  not.  You  will  believe  anything  bad  of 
me,  and  nothing  of  the  man  you've  set  your  heart  on," 
sneered  Simon. 

"Simon  Spud!  How  dare  you  talk  so?  Job  Stearns 
is  an  honorable  man,  and  I  and  all  honest  people  will 
trust  him  before  you,  a  sneaking  eavesdropper  and  liar." 

"  I  wouldn't  stand  up  for  a  man  who  leaves  me  for  a 
Chinawoman,"  cried  Simon,  in  anger. 

A  dash  of  cold  water  from  the  well-dipper  was  his  only 
answer.  It  sleeked  his  hair  down  nicely  back  of  his  ears, 
and  sent  a  cold  shiver  along  his  spinal  column.  Bessie 
turned  with  flaming  cheeks  and  ran  into  the  house,  leav- 


66  The  Trial  Continued. 

ing  the  defeated  Simon  standing  dripping  by  the  gate. 
Miss  Bessie  found  Peggy  Sproul  in  the  house  with  her 
mother.  She  took  up  a  book  and  sat  down  with  it  wrong 
end  up  to  read — no,  to  listen — no,  to  think.  Yes,  that  was 
it,  to  think.  All  her  heart  was  on  fire;  her  sense  of  jus- 
tice was  outraged;  she  believed  in  Job;  she  wouldn't  for 
a  moment  lend  an  ear  to  the  contemptible  things  they 
were  saying  about  him.  Why  hadn't  he  told  her  all  about 
it  ?  What  was  the  reason  he  kept  it  all  to  himself?  No, 
she  would  not  let  any  suspicions  prejudice  her  against  him ; 
he  was  a  good,  true,  pure  man,  and,  and — here  she  burst 
into  a  flood  of  tears.  Peggy  stole  up  behind  her  and 
rested  her  sharp  chin  on  top  of  her  head. 

"Poor  gal — poor  gal!  I'm  sorry  for  yer,  but  the  Lud 
doith  all  things  well,"  she  whispered. 

"  Go  away,"  said  Bessie,  giving  the  chin  a  shove  with 
her  fist,  "the  Lord  did  not  do  it,  it  was  you  and  that  mean 
old  Simon  Spud." 

"  Bessie !  Bessie ! "  said  her  mother,  mildly. 

"It's  true,  mother,"  sobbed  Bessie,  "she  has  been  after 
him  ever  since  he  talked  against  the  Chinamen.  She  has 
put  Deacon  Spud  up  to  distrusting  him,  and  now  she  comes 
here  to  set  you  against  him.  Let  her  go  away,  I  don't 
want  to  see  her." 

"  But  Bes — ,"  commenced  Peggy. 

"  I  won't  hear  you;  go  away." 

"The  good  cause  de — ,"  recommenced  Peggy. 


BESSIE    DEMONSTRATES    WITH 


The  Trial  Continued.  67 

"  I  tell  you  I  won't  hear  you  say  one  word  about  it.  It's 
a  crying  shame,  and  you'll  get  no  blessings  by  it,  I  can  tell 
you,  Peggy  Sproul.  Don't  you  ever  come  whining  and 
pawing  around  me  again,  ugh ! "  said  Bessie,  with  a  shrug. 
She  flew  out  of  the  room  and  banged  the  door  after  her. 

Sister  Sproul  looked  at  the  widow  for  a  moment  in 
amazement. 

"  Didn't  think  she  had  so  much  temper,"  said  she. 

"  She  does  not  act  like  my  Bessie,"  said  the  widow, 
sadly. 

"  How  hard  she  is  a  takin'  it!  What  can  you  do,  Sister 
Caldwell  ?  " 

"  I  shall  have  to  put  my  foot  down,  I  suppose,"  said  the 
widow,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Ter  think  uv  her  layin'  it  ter  me ! "  said  Peggy,  as  she 
went  out. 


68  Bessie's  Courage. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
BESSIE'S    COURAGE. 

MRS.  CALDWELL  went  in  search  of  Bessie  as  soon  as 
Peggy  Sproul  had  gone.  She  found,  rolled  up  in  a  heap 
on  her  bed,  a  mass  of  clothes.  Hands,  feet,  and  face 
were  not  to  be  seen.  Mrs.  Caldwell  touched  the  heap  of 
clothes  gently,  and  said  softly,  "Bessie?"  The  bunch 
shook  itself  in  an  impatient  way.  "  Bessie  ? "  said  the 
mother  again. 

"  What,  ma  ? "  said  a  smothered  voice. 

"Get  up,  child;  I  want  to  talk  to  you." 

Bessie  unrolled  herself,  and  exhibited  a  face  red  as  the 
rose,  and  streaked  with  tear-marks.  Mrs.  Caldwell  put 
her  two  hands  upon  Bessie's  shoulders,  and  said,  sadly: 
"  Has  it  gone  so  far  as  this,  my  child  ? " 

"Oh,  mother!"  sobbed  Bessie,  as  she  buried  her  face 
in  her  mother's  bosom. 

"Bessie,  I  pity  you;  but,  my  child,  you  must  hide  this 
from  all  eyes  but  mine.  He  is  not  worthy  of  you." 

"  Oh,  mother,  why  will  you  not  trust  him  until  you  know 
all  about  it  ? "  asked  Bessie. 

"Because,  my  dear,  it  is  evident  he  has  done  wrong;  and 
.such  wrong  as  renders  him  unfit  to  be  suitor  for  my 
daughter's  hand." 

"  But,  ma,  he  never  has  been  suitor  for  my  hand." 


BE$SIE  CALDWELL. 


Bessie's  Courage.  69 

"  I  know,  my  child,  but  this  little,  red  face  tells  its  own 
story.    You  must  have  a  brave  heart,  and  live  it  all  down." 

"  Mother,"  said  Bessie,  as  her  teeth  set  themselves  firmly 
together,  "  I  know  you  want  to  do  what  is  right;  but  so  do 
I,  and  I  mean  to  stand  by  Job  Stearns  until  I  know  he  is, 
unworthy  of  my  friendship." 

"  My  daughter  will  do  nothing  unbecoming  a  lady,  I 
trust,"  said  the  widow. 

"I  shall  do  something  becoming  a  friend,  mother," 
firmly. 

And  she  did,  too.  She  sat  down  and  wrote  a  kind  little 
note  to  Job,  blotted  with  tears,  sympathizing  with  him,  and 
declaring  her  confidence  in  his  honor  and  honesty.  She 
sent  the  little  boy  living  next  door  down  to  Chinatown  for 
Ah  Chung's  woman.  She  came.  Bessie  was  closeted 
with  her  over  an  hour.  She  found  out  all  the  facts.  She 
then  went  to  her  mother  with  these  facts,  but  the  widow 
simply  expressed  surprise  at  what  her  daughter  had  done, 
and  set  her  heart  more  firmly  than  ever  against  Job.  That 
evening  Job  called.  Mrs.  Caldwell  received  him  coldly, 
and  intimated  that  Bessie  was  not  at  home  to  him,  and 
would  not  be  in  future.  Bessie  heard  it  all  from  the  back 
entry,  and  when  Job  went  out  sadly,  he  felt  a  little,  soft 
hand  touch  his  arm.  He  swept  the  arm  around,  and 
gathered  a  warm  little  figure  close  to  him. 

"Oh,  Bessie,  dare  I  tell  you  now  how  much  I  love 
you  ? " 


yo  Bessie's  Courage. 

"Why  not,  Job?"  asked  a  smothered  voice  from  his 
shoulder. 

We  will  not  break  into  the  sweet  confidences  of  that 
moment;  let  them  say  the  things  others  have  said  thou- 
sands of  times  before;  let  them  have  the  same  sweet  pri- 
vacy. 

"Bessie!  Bessie!"  called  the  shrill  voice  of  the  widow, 
in  the  house. 

But  no  Bessie  answered. 

"Where  is  the  child?"  said  the  mother;  "where  can 
she  be  ?  Bessie ! " 

"Coming,  ma!"  replied  a  voice  out  at  the  back-door, 
and  in  a  moment  Bessie  came  in.  The  keen-eyed  mother 
detected  the  change  in  her  daughter's  face. 

"  Did  you  meet  Job,  Bessie  ? "  she  asked. 

"Yes,  ma." 

"After  all  I  said  to  you,  my  daughter!  How  could  you 
do  such  a  thing  ? " 

"  I  did  right,  ma,"  responded  Bessie,  flushing. 
-    "Right  to  disobey  your  mother!     Has  that  been  the 
kind  of  teaching  you  have  had  ? " 

"  My  conscience  told  me  to  see  him,  ma,  and  my  heart 
says  I  have  done  right,"  said  Bessie,  flushing  deeply. 

"  Your  heart!  Have  you  presumed  to  receive  his  atten- 
tions after  I  told  you  not  to,  Bessie  ? " 

"  I  can  have  no  secrets  from  you,  mother,"  said  Bessie, 
looking  the  widow  in  the  face  with  a  clear  eye;  "  I  have 
pledged  my  heart  to  Job  Stearns." 


Bessie's  Courage.  71 

Mrs.  Caldwell  was  deeply  grieved  at  this  confession. 
Her  daughter,  her  Bessie,  pledged  to  the  man  so  Decently 
disgraced  and  ostracized  by  the  church!  Could  it  be  pos- 
sible! This  was  not  her  simple,  obedient,  docile  child. 
It  was  a  woman's  eyes  she  saw  looking  so  calmly  at  her. 

"  Well,  my  child,  you  have  done  what  you  thought  was 
your  duty;  I  shall  do  what  I  think  is  mine,"  she  said,  after 
a  few  moments'  thought;  "Job  Stearns  must  not  come  to 
my  house.  If  you  have  any  further  confidences  with  him 
it  will  be  without  your  mother's  consent." 


72  The  Dread  Visitant. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE     DREAD     VISITANT. 

ARISTOCRACY  street.  It  was  a  neat  avenue  among  the 
oaks,  and  lined  on  either  side  with  the  dwellings  of  the 
well-to-do  citizens  of  Yarbtown.  Deacon  Spud's  mansion 
was  a  low  one-story  house*  with  broad-spreading-  wings. 
It  stood  on  a  little  hill,  back  of  which  was  a  pleasant  little 
canyon,  which  the  deacon  and  his  neighbors  meditated 
turning  to  account  in  shape  of  a  rustic  garden. 

Ben  Levi,  the  dealer  in  clothing,  cloths,  boots  and  shoes, 
also  added  beauty  to  Aristocracy  street  with  his  pleasant 
semi-Gothic  dwelling.  Giles,  the  carpenter,  Ghelt,  the 
jeweler,  and  sundry  other  moneyed  men  lived  under  the 
shadow  of  the  oaks,  and  their  own  vines  and  fig-trees,  on 
Aristocracy  street.  The  modest  house  of  the  Widow  Cald- 
well  stood  somewhat  back  of  the  street,  higher  on  the  hill. 

This  street,  with  the  pasturage  hill  at  one  end  and  the 
little  run  behind  it,  was  the  pride  of  Yarbtown;  they  had 
macadamized  the  roadway  and  filled  in  the  walk  with  as- 
phaltum,  and  were  proud  of  every  inch  of  it,  from  the  hill 
down  to  where  it  ended  by  the  little  church  and  school- 
house. 

Chinamen  live  in  communities  and  never  intrude  upon 
the  rest  of  the  village.  That  is  true,  they  do  live  in  com- 
munities, and  their  houses  huddle  together  like  sheep  in.  a 


The  Dread  Visitant.  73 

sleety  storm.  John  Chinaman  seldom  intrudes  with  his 
hideous  houses  among  the  dwellings  of  the  white  men;  but 
John  likes  sightly  quarters  and  elevated  places  as  well  as 
the  rest  of  human  kind,  and  while  he  does  not  often  in- 
trude with  his  dwelling,  yet  we  cannot  say  as  much  of 
John's  emptyings. 

John  Chinaman  of  Yarbtown  pitched  upon  the  pasturage 
hill  surmounting  Aristocracy  street,  as  a  desirable  spot 
upon  which  to  locate.  Ready  money  on  one  side  and 
obstinate  blindness  on  the  other,  secured  the  land  for  the 
companies,  and  one  of  the  most  beautiful  spots  in  Yarb- 
town became  John's.  Had  the  people  of  Yarbtown  been 
sufficiently  long-headed,  they  would  have  held  this  land 
until,  under  honest  white  labor,  the  town  had  grown  up  to 
demand  its  settlement;  but  John  now  had  possession  of 
it,  so  good-by  to  future  improvements  in  that  direction. 

"They  won't  harm  us  any,"  said  Aristocracy  street; 
"they  cling  to  their  own  quarters,  and  as  they  live  higher 
up  the  hill  than  the  street  runs,  we  shall  suffer  no  incon- 
venience from  them." 

Chinatown  began  to  show  it  characteristic  deference  to 
the  hygienic  notions  of  civilized  communities.  A  dark, 
greasy,  nasty,  little  stream  of  distilled  odds  and  ends  began 
to  steal  its  way  down  from  the  hill  through  the  little  canyon 
behind  Aristocracy  street.  Similar,  indeed,  was  this  stream 
to  that  which  shows  itself  in  their  moral  influence  on  so- 
ciety. This  foul  stream  gradually  enlarged  its  borders 


7-j.  The  Dread  Visitant. 

\  until  a  filthy,  putrid  pool  settled  upon  the  rear  of  Aristoc- 
racy street,  as  its  permanent  abiding  place. 

The  denizens  of  that  neighborhood  tried  first  to  turn  its 
course  into  some  other  direction;  then  they  tried  to  keep 
a  sewer  open;  then  in  vain  they  dug  an  open  ditch;  like 
the  scum  in  our  big  cities  it  obstinately  refused  to  move 
on.  There  it  remained,  generating  poisonous  gases,  ex- 
uding obnoxious  vapors  and  defiling  the  fair  face  of  nature. 

Old  Dr.  Gratiot  made  frequent  visits  to  Aristocracy 
street  now.  Fevers  were  on  the  increase;  sudden  and 
alarming  they  were,  in  their  attacks,  too.  Dr.  Gratiot  in- 
sisted that  it  was  caused  by  the  emptyings  from  China- 
town. 

This  was  not  to  be  the  worst  of  their  troubles,  however. 
A  new  and  dreadful  disease  showed  its  horrid  visage  at 
Yarbtown;  aye,  and  in  Aristocracy  street,  at  that.  Small- 
pox. How  awfully  it  sounded  to  the  good  people  of  Yarb- 
town. Where  did  it  come  from?  Who  brought  it? 

Dr.  Gratiot  investigated.  It  had  been  existing  in  the 
China  dens  for  over  a  month.  No  report  had  ever  come, 
to  that  effect,  from  those  honorable  heathen;  they  had 
harbored  the  dread  visitor  in  their  crowded  houses,  giving 
neither  sign  nor  warning  to  others. 

Deacon  Spud,  strange  fate,  was  the  first  to  be  stricken 
down.  The  yellow  flag  was  flying  at  his  gate,  and  all 
Yarbtown  gave  it  and  him  a  wide  berth.  That  precious 
boy,  Simon,  was  seized  with  a  sudden  desire  to  go  to  the 


The  Dread  Visitant.  75 

bay.     Sister  Peggy  Sproul  prized  her  parchment  skin  too 
highly  to  volunteer  to  nurse  him. 

Send  for  a  Chinaman,  deacon.  They  have  been  your 
chief  resort.  Bribe  one  to  come  and  cook  for  you  now. 
Pay  one  to  stand  over  you  and  oil  your  scabbed  face. 
Aha!  They  are  not  quite  so  readily  obtained  now.  But 
who  is  that  who  goes  in  at  the  gate  ?  Job  Stearns !  Yes,  ' 
the  noble  fellow  has  seen  his  opportunity,  and  he  seizes 
upon  it. 

"Good  Lord!"  cried  the  deacon,  when  Job  strode  into 
the  pestilential  room,  "what  ar  you  a  doin'  here,  Job 
Starns ? "  "Visiting  the  afflicted,  deacon,"  said  Job,  cheer- 
fully. 

"Who'd  a  thought  it — who'd  a  thought  it!"  murmured 
the  deacon,  burying  his  head  under  the  bedclothes. 
Suddenly  he  pulled  the  quilt-down  again  and  asked,  "  Ever 
hed  it,  Job ! " 

"  No,  Deacon  Spud." 

"Why  do  you  come  here  then?"  asked  the  deacon, 
picking  the  lint  off  the  white  coverlid  nervously. 

"Who  else  would  come,  Deacon  Spud?" 

"Ay!  ay!  Who  else,  indeed!"  snarled  the  deacon. 

"I  don't  fear  the  small-pox,  deacon;  so  rest  easy  on  my 
account,"  said  Job. 

Job  busied  himself  in  making  some  broth  at  the  stove. 
He  hunted  about  for  the  cream-tartar;  he  tucked  the 
deacon  up  carefully  under  the  bedclothes. 


7  6  The  Dread  Visitant. 

"Job  Starns,  take  yer  hat  an'  go  away  from  here," 
cried  the  deacon. 

"Won't  do  it,"  answered  Job,  shortly. 

"Coin' to  pizon  me,  eh?"  asked  the  deacon,  raising 
himself  up  quickly  on  his  elbows. 

Job  turned  as  quick  as  a  flash  to  the  bedside. 

"See  here,  Deacon  Spud,  you  have  injured  me  as  no 
man  ever  did  before.  I  might  have  retaliated;  I  might 
have  done  a  hundred  things  before  this  to  injure  you.  I 
am  not  a  coward,  that  I  waited  until  you  were  sick  and 
then  came  to  destroy  you.  My  religion  teaches  me  to  do 
good  to  my  enemies.  I  have,  come  here  to  save  your  life, 
if  possible.  I  will  nurse  you,  and  you  shall  have  every 
comfort;  but  you  must  trust  me,  deacon." 

Deacon  Spud  slowly  sank  down  from  his  elbows  and 
crawled  under  the  bedclothes  again. 


Duty  versus  Duty.  77 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

DUTY    VERSUS    DUTY. 

STRANGE  that  duty  should  issue  such  contradictor}'  com- 
mands to  different  minds  concerning  the  same  subject  in 
question.  Duty  commanded  Peggy  Sproul  to  stand  by  the 
Chinaman,  and  Peggy  obeyed.  Duty  commanded  Job 
Stearns  to  contest  their  right  to  intrude  upon  the  inherited 
hunting-grounds  of  the  whites,  and  Job  obeyed.  Duty 
persuaded  Mrs.  Caldwell  that  she  ought  to  interfere  with 
Job  Stearns  and  Bessie,  her  daughter,  and  prevent  them 
from  making  an  ill-advised  match;  on  the  other  hand, 
Bessie  was  persuaded  that  duty  demanded  that  she  should 
be  the  balm  of  Job's  wounded  heart,  and  she  nobly  did 
her  duty.  A  mother's  pride  had  something  to  do  with  the 
anxiety  Mrs.  Caldwell  felt;  pride  in  her  daughter's  good 
name;  pride  in  the  untainted  family  honor. 

"If  Job  is  not  a  guilty  man,"  she  reasoned,  "he  is  at 
least  under  a  dark  cloud,  and  grave  suspicions  are  enter- 
tained of  him." 

Bessie,  on  the  other  hand,  reasoned:  "If  Job  is  under 
a  dark  cloud,  and  grave  suspicions  are  entertained  of  him, 
he  is  at  least  not  guilty,  and  needs  my  sympathy." 

Bessie  wondered  why  Job  did  not  call.  Mrs.  Caldwell 
did  not  wonder;  she  thought  she  knew  why.  Probably 
the  plain  truths  she  had  so  bluntly  told  him  the  last  time 


78  Duty  versus  Duty 

he  presumed  to  call,  had  shamed  him  into  absenting  him- 
self. 

Bessie  was  patient,  and  made  no  complaints;  and  yet 
her  heart  ached  when  day  after  day  went  by,  and  no  Job 
came.  She  had  heard  of  the  small-pox  in  town;  but  that 
Job,  her  Job,  had  buckled  on  his  armor  and  gone  forth  to 
battle  the  Apollyon  for  his  enemy,  she  had  not  heard. 

The  bulletin-board  of  the  town,  however,  Peggy  Sproul, 
soon  made  her  appearance  with  the  news. 

"Jest  think  uv  it,"  said  Peggy,  as  she  entered  the  house, 
her  eyes  as  big  as  saucers,  and  her  forehead  marked  into 
latitudinal  lines;  "jest  think  uv  it;  thet  'ar  repperbate,  Job 
Starns,  hez  gone  inter  the  deacon's  house,  to  '  nuss  him/ 
the  doctor  says.  More  like  to  kerwheedle  the  dear,  good 
man  inter  leavin'  uv  his  property  to  him." 

"  What's  that  you  say,"  asked  the  widow,  aghast  at  the 
idea;  "Job  Stearns  gone  to  nurse  Deacon  Spud  ?  Why 
you  must  be  mistaken,  Sister  Sproul;  Job  has  never  had 
the  small-pox." 

"No  mustake  about  it,"  replied  Peggy;  "he's  thar. 
Dr.  Gratiot  told  me  so.  He's  never  hed  it,  I  know,  an' 
it's  onnatral  thet  he  should  go  thar  'less  he  hed  some  idee 
uv  gettin'  the  better  uv  the  poor  de-a-r  soul,"  sniveled 


Bessie  had  been  turning  all  colors  during  this  conversa- 
tion. First,  she  felt  that  she  should  faint;  then  indignation 
roused  her,  and  she  turned  on  Peggy  Sproul,  with  eyes 
bright  as  stars,  her  little  hands  clenched  tightly  together. 


Duty  versus  Duty.  79 

"  You  talk  of  Job  Stearns'  motives;  you  ascribe  mean, 
low  reasons  for  his  going  to  Deacon  Spud,  in  his  trouble, 
when  no  one  else  would !  You  I  you  !  Why  you  have  no 
more  comprehension  of  a  noble  man's  or  woman's  heart 
than  that  chair  has,  you  cruel  woman.  You  whine  about 
the  de-ar,  go-od  man  as  though  you  loved  him  as  I  love 
Job  Stearns,  and  yet  you  dare  not  enter  his  house  to  see 
him  in  his  trouble.  You,  with  your  whining  and  canting, 
have  broken  poor  Job's  heart,  and  crushed  him,  and  now 
you  are  mean  enough  to  trample  on  him  when  he  is  down. 
You  a  Christian !  You  I  Shame  1 " 

"  'Possess  thyself  with  pashunse,  '  possess  thyself  with 
.ishunse,"  murmured  Peggy  to  herself. 

"Do!  Yes,  do  I"  cried  Bessie;  "possess  yourself,  and 
let  other  people  alone." 

"Bessie!  Bessie,  dear!"  interposed  Mrs.  Caldwell,  "re- 
member Sister  Sproul  is  older  than  you;  you  shouldn't 
talk  so  to  one  of  her  years  and  experience." 

All  Bessie's  combativeness  was  aroused;  there  was  no 
curbing  her  now;  she  was  under  full  headway;  they  must 
fight  the  fire  they  have  kindled. 

"  Her  years  and  experience/  Has  she  lived  long  enough 
to  know  how  contemptible  it  is  to  strike  a  foe  when  he  is 
prostrate  ?  Has  she  lived  long  enough  to  learn  that  to  have 
a  contrary  opinion  is  no  crime  ?  You  needn't  frown  at 
me,  ma,  and  Peggy  needn't  wrinkle  up  her  forehead, 
either;  she'll  have  to  have  more  wrinkles  before  she  out- 
grows her  mean,  petty  spirit." 


So  Duty  versus  Duty. 

Mrs.  Caldwell  rose  to  her  feet,  and  pointed  to  the  door. 

"  You  had  better  go,  Bessie,  and  think  a  little  while  in 
your  own  room,"  she  said,  firmly. 

Bessie  went,  and  there  was  a  look  in  her  eyes  that  said 
she  would  think,  and  think  as  she  pleased,  too. 

"  How  the  dear  gal  hez  changed,"  said  Peggy;  "why  I 
thought  fer  sartin  she  was  agoin'  to  be  one  uv  our  stan'- 
bys  in  the  werk;  but  la!  she  ar'  teetotally  under  the  in- 
fuence  uv  Job  Starns." 

"  Sister  Sproul,  I  can't  believe  that  Job  is  as  bad  as  you 
seem  to  think.  Perhaps  we  have  all  misjudged  him,"  said 
the  widow,  thoughtfully. 

"  Misjedged  him  ?  Why,  Sister  Ca-1-d-w-e-ll !  he  hed 
ev'ry  show  to  prove  himself  innocent,"  said  the  astonished 
Peggy. 

"  But  is  it  fair  to  expect  a  man  to  prove  his  innocence  ? 
Ought  it  not  to  devolve  upon  us  to  prove  his  guilt  ?" 

"Deareeme!  Sakes  alive!  I  do  b'leeve  thet  gal  is  a 
turnin'  you  agin'  us,  too,"  said  Peggy. 

"  I  am  turned  against  nobody,  Sister  Sproul;  I  only  don't 
•wish  to  do  injustice  to  an  innocent  man,"  answered  Mrs. 
Caldwell. 

"  Oh,  wall,  ef  yer  think  him  innercent,  that  ends  it  all. 
I've  nothing  more  ter  say;"  and  Peggy  flounced  out  of  the 
room. 

All  this  while  the  much-abused  Job  Stearns  was  sitting 
like  a  picket  in  a  dangerous  position,  watching  the  enemy. 


Duty  versus  Duty.  81 

The  deacon  had  been  fussy;  and  who  is  not  in  such  a 
position?  A  nervous,  restless,  active  man;  flat  on  his 
back;  covered  with  itching  scabs,  and  near,  it  may  be,  to 
the  portals  of  the  great  unknown.  Now  he  was  enjoying 
a  few  moments'  of  rest,  under  the  influence  of  the  power- 
ful narcotic  given  him.  Job  was  thinking.  Why  had  he 
come  here  ?  Had  he  not  been  very  foolish,  very  unwise 
to  risk  his  life  in  this  way  ?  Why  had  he  not  hired  some 
one  to  come  in  his  place  ?  No,  he  would  not  do  a  kindy' 
act  and  then  repent  it.  He  had  fought  the  battle  over  in 
in  his  own  mind  before  coming.  He  had  come;  he  would 
stay. 

The  form  of  disease  which  had  attacked  Deacon  Spud 
was  of  the  most  fearful  character.  It  was  confluent  small- 
pox. He  might  die;  probably  to-day  if  at  all,  and  then 
what  would  become  of  him — of  Job  Stearns.  He  might 
take  the  disease  and  die  too.  Die!  No,  he  couldn't  do 
that.  He  must  not  die. 

Visions  of  Bessie's  sweet,  trusting  face  came  up  before 
him,  and  visions  of  the  grave — the  cold,  dreary,  lonesome 
grave. 

Death!  He  wasn't  afraid  to  die;  but  Bessie — ah,  there 
was  the  anchor  which  held  him.  Great  beads  of  cold 
sweat  stood  out  all  over  him;  he  was  fainting — he,  big, 
strong  Job  Stearns  was  fainting  at  the  thought  of  death. 
Shame! 

"Water!  water!"  murmured  the  deacon,  turning  rest- 
lessly in  his  bed. 


82  Duty  versus  Duty. 

Job  shook  himself,  and  crowded  the  hideous  picture 
back  out  of  sight  in  his  mind,  and  was  ready  for  his  work 
again,  a  strong,  self-reliant  man.  The  deacon  rolled  his 
eyes  in  his  head  piteously  toward  where  Job  stood. 

"  You  here  yet  ? "  he  asked. 

"Yes,  deacon,  I'm  here,"  replied  Job,  cheerfully. 

"  Thought  you'd  a  gone  'fore  this.  Aint  yer  most  afeer'd, 
Job  Starns  ? " 

"  No !  no !  Deacon,  don't  worry  about  me." 

The  old  man  groaned  and  turned  restlessly  from  side  to 
side;  presently  he  stretched  out  his  hands  towards  Job. 

"Job  Starns,  ez  it  night  ?  " 

"  No,  deacon,  it's  not  dark  yet,"  replied  Job. 

"Job,"  he  said  faintly,  "  I  think  I'm  a  sinkin';  it's  dark 
and  my  mind  ain't  jest  clar." 

"You  must  look  to  Him  who  leads  us  in  the  dark, 
Deacon  Spud,"  counseled  Job,  as  he  bathed  the  old  man's 
face  to  refresh  him. 

The  somber  shades  of  the  evening  of  delirium  were  fast 
gathering  around  the  deacon,  to  be  followed  by  the  dark 
and  more  terrible  night  of  death. 

"  Oh,  Job  what  hev  I  done  ter  yer?  Ken  yer — hi,  thar 
they  come,  fire-crackers,  pigtails,'  ketch  him,  Simon — ken 
yer  forgive  me,  Job  ? "  he  cried,  piteously;  then  his  eyes 
rolled  wildly  as  he  seemed  to  catch  sight  of  Simon  Spud. 
"  You  stole  it,  yer  know  yer  did,  Simon — yes,  yes,  I  know, 
Job  wants  the  gal,  but  yer  shouldn't  let  yer  old  father  do 
this  thing — Job  Starns !  pray !  pray !" 


Duty  versus  Duty.  83 

Job  dropped  upon  his  knees,  sobbing  like  a  child — 
"Great  God,  wilt  thou  forgive  this  man;  he  has  sinned,  but 
he  knew  not  what  he  did.  Have  mercy,  Lord,  for  Jesus 
sake — " 

"Amen,"  cried  the  deacon. 

"Job — Job — quick — here,  bend  down,  I  can't  talk  loud. 
I  never  ment  to  harm  yer,  Job — I  didn't — it  was  the  cursed 
money.  Ay,  money,  money — that  hez  been  my  sin.  Tell 
Simon — I  say — di — divide  it — brethering,  he  must  be 
guilty.  Job,  take  it — one-half — give  me  paper — paper — 
will."  The  old  deacon  clutched  the  bedclothes  wildly; 
for  a  moment  his  eyes  started  fearfully  from  their  sockets — 
he  seemed  to  be  looking  far,  far  away;  then  they  melted 
suddenly  into  a  sweetness  of  expression  they  never  had 
worn  in  all  his  life  before;  then,  like  the  sunset,  they  went 
out — out  to  open  in  the  glorious  morning  of  the  new,  new 
world. 

Deacon  Spud  was  dead.  The  mistaken  man  was  at 
rest.  In  that  last  moment  the  better  nature,  the  faith  of 
the  old  man  crushed  the  serpent  with  its  heel. 

Job  had  conquered.  Himself — the  deacon.  He  had 
saved  his  own  manhood;  he  had  saved  a  soul. 


84  The  Midnight  Funeral. 

CHAPTER  XV. 

THE   MIDNIGHT   FUNERAL. 

DEATH  is  a  terrible  visitor  at  any  time.  When  he  comes 
to  the  father,  surrounded  by  wife  and  children,  he  is 
terrible.  When  he  steals  away  the  patter  of  the  little  feet 
and  the  prattle  of  the  little  tongue,  and  stills  the  little, 
loving  heart,  he  is  terrible.  In  the  lone  watches  of  the 
sea,  in  the  trackless  desert,  everywhere  he  is  terrible;  but 
how  awful  he  is  when  clad  in  his  most  fearful  garb;  he 
comes  and  drives  those  most  dear  to  us  away,  sets  the  seal 
of  pestilence  upon  our  doorposts,  and  bears  us  away  un- 
blest  by  loving  hands,  unwatched  by  loving  eyes. 

Sad,  indeed,  is  the  casket  when  gilded,  velveted,  and 
borne  by  saddened  friends.  Sadder  is  the  lone,  wild, 
dreary  night,  when  the  silent  form  is  hastily  shrouded  and 
borne  away  unmourned,  unwept,  unsung. 

It  was  midnight;  all  Yarbtown  slept.  Cold  the  winds 
blew.  Dark,  the  clouds  drifted  one  upon  another.  A 
cold  drizzling  rain  was  falling.  An  old  dilapidated  cart 
had  drawn  up  at  Deacon  Spud's  gate.  Two  men  silently 
entered  the  house.  Presently  they  came  out  bearing  a 
long  black  box  covered  with  canvass.  They  pushed  it 
rudely  into  the  cart  and  hastily  spread  the  canvass  over  all. 
One  walked  before  with  a  pitch  torch,  the  other  mounted 
the  wagon  and  drove  behind.  No  carriages  followed. 
No  long  procession  wended  its  way  behind  it.  The  horse 


THE  MIDNIGHT  BURIAL. 


The  Midnight  Funeral  85 

shumbled  along  in  the  mud  and  darkness,  guided  by  the 
curses  of  his  driver.  They  reached  the  grave-yard  and 
halted  beside  a  newly  made  grave,  and  dropped  the  box 
roughly  upon  the  ground. 

"  Tumble  the  old  chap  in,  Bill !  "  said  the  driver  coarsely 
to  his  companion.  . 

"  'Sh,  Joe;  see  there,"  the  sexton  replied,  pointing  up  to 
the  sky. 

The  drizzling  rain  had  ceased  suddenly,  the  clouds  had 
parted  like  a  grand  curtain,  and  as  they  lowered  the  box 
down  a  meteor  shot  across  the  clear  space  above,  then  the 
black  clouds  rolled  together  again,  and  the  storm  recom- 
menced. Deacon  Spud  was  buried.  No  priest,  no  parson, 
no  mourner. 

Yes,  one.  Out  from  behind  a  tall  oak  darted  a  dark 
figure.  It  came  to  the  grave-side  and  threw  in  a  handful 
of  earth,  and  a  voice  repeated,  "I  heard  a  voice  from 
heaven,  saying  unto  me,  '  Write,  from  henceforth  blessed 
are  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord;  ever  so,  saith  the  Spirit; 
for  they  rest  from  their  labors." 

The  sexton  seized  the  shovel,  and  the  clods  fell  upon 
the  coffin.  Job  Stearns  turned  and  fled  into  the  darkness 
again. 


86  Peggy  Sets  Vaccinated. 

CHAPTER  IVX. 

PEGGY    GETS    VACCINATED. 

SICKNESS  is  always  a  serious  thing;  but  to  all  serious 
things  there  is  a  humorous  side.  A  man  suffering  with  an 
enlargement  of  the  liver,  probably  considers  himself  an 
object  of  commiseration;  but  when  that  man  is  a  high  dig- 
nitary of  Church  or  State,  and  his  friends  are  introduced 
to  his  presence  while  he  is  swathed  in  a  sheet,  and  his 
three  hundred  pounds  of  adipose  tissue  are  slopping  over 
the  sides  of  a  sitz  bath-tub,  while  he,  in  the  endeavor  to 
preserve  his  dignity,  resembles  a  good  motherly  hen  setting 
on  her  eggs;  that  is  the  humorous  side  of  trouble. 

Small-pox  is  no  joke.  Its  presence  in  a  community  is 
anything  but  a  funny  affair.  But  when  people  lose  their 
balance  of  reason,  and  their  common  sense  runs  riot;  when 
dignified  men  and  women  en'deavor  to  combat  it  in  their 
several  widely-differing  ways,  then  the  grim  humor  of  the 
thing  is  seen. 

Yarbtown  was  frightened  out  of  its  wits  during  the  prev- 
alence of  small-pox  among  the  Chinamen.  The  atmos- 
phere of  the  village  was  no  longer  laden  with  the  odor  of 
blossoming  flower-beds,  even  Aristocracy  street  no  longer 
drank  in  the  exhilarating  effluvia  of  the  China  styx. 
German  cologne,  Lubin,  Florida  water — all,  all  were 
dreams  and  essences  of  the  past. 

Yarbtown  smelled    bad.     Everybody  closed   the    car 


PEQQY'S    TRIBULATION 


Peggy  gets  Vaccinated.  87 

windows  when  the  train  passed  through  it.  The  tax  col- 
lector avoided  the  place.  He  wasn't  afraid  of  the  small- 
pox, but  the  smell,  you  know,  ugh!  Carbolic  acid,  cam- 
phor and  assafetida  were  the  favorite  odors  wherewith  the 
good  people  perfumed  themselves. 

The  doctor  said  tobacco  was  a  preventative,  and  every- 
body took  to  smoking.  It  was  the  millennial  to  young 
Yarbtown.  Even  Parson  Smudgins  winked  at  it,  and  took 
an  occasional  public  whiff  himself;  People  passed  each 
other  on  the  street  under  the  old  boarding-school  law  of 
ten  feet  apart.  The  hard-working  doctor  reaped  a  rich 
harvest  from  the  sale  of  vaccine  matter.  His  office  was 
crowded  during  his  business  hours. 

Peggy  Sproul  came  among  the  rest.  She  came  in  flus- 
trated  and  red,  and  charged  upon  the  doctor,  with  her  eyes 
starting  from  her  head. 

"  I  dew  believe,  I  dew  believe  I'm  a  'goin  ter  hev  'em, 
doctor,"  she  cried  as  she  bounced  into  the  room. 

"  Have  them  ?     Have  what  ? "     asked  the  doctor. 

"  Why,  them  small-peeks." 

"  Oh,  I  guess  not,  Peggy,"  responded  the  doctor,  coolly. 

"  But,  oh,  doctor,  I  hev  sech  a  headache  when  I  bend 
over  en  this  way,"  said  Peggy,  suiting  her  actions  to  her 
words,  as  she  nearly  rubbed  her  nose  on  the  worthy  doctor's 
boot  bending  over. 

"And  why  the  d —  do  you  bend  over  that  way?"  in- 
quired the  astonished  M.  D. 


88  Peggy  gets  Vaccinated. 

"  An'  sech  a  backache  ez  I  hev  em — a-ooh-a  ! "  screamed 
Peggy. 

"  Great  Napoleon  !  I  should  think  you  would  have  the 
backache  if  you  twist  your  spinal  column  about  so." 

"What  jvfo//I  dew?" 

"Get  vaccinated,  of  course." 

"Will  it  hurt,  doctor?" 

"  Of  course;  a  little,  but  ain't  you  woman  enough  to  stand 
that,"  asked  the  doctor. 

"Can't  I  take  kerlorerform  ? "  piteously  whined  Peggy. 

"Chloroform  !  Why,  I  should  think  you  were  going  to 
have  an  arm  sawed  off." 

Peggy  bared  an  arm  about  as  big  as  a  broom-handle, 
and  took  out  her  smelling-bottle. 

"  Aho-o-o-o  ! "  she  screamed,  jumping  out  of  her 
chair  as  the  doctor  opened  his  lancet. 

"Sit  still,  sit  still,  I  won't  hurt  you." 

Doctor  Gratiot  took  Peggy's  arm  between  his  thumb 
and  ringer  and  began  to  scrape.  Then  ensued  a  series  of 
shrieks  and  groans. 

"  Peggy,  Peggy,  I'm  ashamed  of  you.  Can't  you  keep 
still  ?"  said  the  doctor  as  he  chased  her  arm  about  her  head. 

"There,  it's  all  done,"  said  he;  "it  didn't  hurt  you 
much,  did  it  ?  " 

But  Peggy  had  fainted. 

"Jim,  Jim  !"  shouted  the  doctor,  "fetch  in  a  pail  of 
water." 


Peggv  gets  Vaccinated  89 

His  boy  came  in  with  a  big  bucket  of  it. 

"Throw  a  basin  of  it  on  her  face,"  said  the  doctor, 
winking  at  Jim. 

"  No  !  no !  Never  mind,  I'm  all  right,"  squealed 
Peggy,  faintly. 

"  I  thought  that  would  bring  her  round,"  he  muttered. 

Peggy  Sproul  fanned  herself  a  few  minutes,  and  after  a 
proper  time  had  elapsed,  she  came  to. 

"Now,  Miss  Sproul,"  said  the  doctor,  "don't  be  afraid 
of  small-pox  and  you  won't  have  it. 

Miss  Sproul  straightened  out  her  gown,  and  tying  her 
sponge  of  carbolic  acid  under  her  chin,  started  for  home. 
The  lesson  and  instruction  which  the  doctor  had  given  her 
seemed  not  to  benefit  Ler  much,  for,  although  she  climbed 
fences  and  waded  ditches  to  avoid  Chinatown  on  her  way 
home,  yet  she  was  convinced  that  some  plague-smitten 
Celestial  must  have  put  his  hand  on  that  very  last  fence  she 
climbed.  She  got  down  her  hand-glass  the  moment  she 
reached  home,  and  peering  anxiously  into  it,  discovered 
three  or  four  minute  pimples  on  her  forehead. 

"Oh! "  she  groaned,  as  she  saw  them,  "  I  knew  I  had 
ketched  it.  Thar  it  is  fer  sure." 

She  rubbed  carbolic  acid  furiously  all  over  her  face  and 
hands. 

"  Oh,  he  needn't  tell  me  I  hevn't  it.  My  back,  oh,  how't 
does  ache!  Ef  'twan't  for  the  conslations  uv  religion 
what'd  I  dew  ?  " 


90  Peggy  gets  Vaccinated. 

Poor  Peggy,  she  suffered  all  the  horrors  at  least  of  small- 
pox, in  imagination. 

"  My  neck  !     The  back  uv  it!     Aow!" 

Peggy  pinched  and  strained  that  part  of  herperson  to 
see  if  she  could  discover  any  unusual  feeling  in  that 
quarter. 

"Et'sthar!  I  knew  it.  Oh,  dearee,  dearee — an' must 
I  foller  the  deekun  so  soon!  I  must  put  out  a  flag  ter 
onct,  les  some  poor  creeter  come  an'  ketch  it/' 

She  pulled  from  a  cupboard,  the  bag  in  which  she  kept 
the  soiled  clothes  and  picked  out  of  it  a  dirty,  yellow  silk 
handkerchief.  She  smoothed  its  wrinkles  out  on  her  lap, 
and  some  little  glittering  tear-drops  fell  down  upon  it. 
Poor  woman,  her  sorrows  and  fears  were  real  to  her,  and 
that  same  tenderness  in  her  nature  that  made  her  some- 
times, in  her  impetuosity,  weep  for  others,  now  brought 
tears  to  her  eyes  for  her  own  griefs. 

Alas,  Peggy,  if  you  had  only  felt  as  deeply  for  the  sor- 
rows of  the  manly  Job!  She  took  the  yellow  handkerchief 
and  walked  like  a  martyr  to  the  front-gate  and  pinned  it  up. 

"  Thar,"  she  said,  as  she  shut  the  door  with  a  sigh,  "I've 
done  my  dooty,  anyhow." 

Peggy  lived  alone.  She  went  to  her  bed  aching  from 
head  to  foot,  with  no  one  to  take  care  of  her,  no  kind  hand 
to  cool  her  now  almost  bursting  head.  She  dare  not  go 
out,  she  might  catch  cold,  she  might  give  the  disease  to 
some  of  her  neighbors;  so  she  took  a  dose  of  cream  of 


SlBI 


PEQQY  PUTS  OUT  THE  YELLOW 


Peggy  gets  Vaccinated.  91 

tartar,  and  patiently  awaited  events,  trusting  in  Providence 
and  her  yellow  flag. 

Fortunately  for  Peggy,  events  soon  shaped  themselves 
for  her.  Mr.  Smudgins  was  out  making  pastoral  calls, 
and  as  he  opened  Miss  Sproul's  front-gate  the  yellow  sen- 
tinel fluttered  under  his  hand. 

"Wh-a-t!  Small-pox  here?"  He  pulled  a  phial  of 
carbolic  acid  out  of  his  vest-pocket  and  washed  the  hand 
that  touched  the  dread  silk,  and  hastily  lighting  a  cigar, 
rushed  down-town  towards  the  doctor's  office.  Dr.  Gratiot 
was  busy  with  his  books,  and  turned  round  in  surprise  as 
the  minister  rushed  in  with  the  cigar  still  in  his  mouth. 

"Hoi-toi-ti!  What's  this  mean,  parson?  Smoking? 
Phew — what  next  ? " 

"  Has  Sister  Sproul  got  the  small-pox  ?  he  gasped 
between  the  puffs  of  smoke. 

"  Sister  Sproul  got  the  small-pox  !  Measles  !  Itch  ! 
No  /  "  thundered  the  doctor. 

"  She's  got  a  flag  out,"  said  the  parson. 

"  Got  a  flag  out  ?  Why,  the  woman's  crazy,"  cried  the 
astonished  doctor. 

"  What  does  it  mean  ? "  said  the  minister,  puzzled. 

"  Mean !  Why,  she  came  here  to  get  vaccinated  a  little 
while  ago,  and  was  scared  out  of  her  senses  with  the  notion 
that  she  had  the  small-pox,  and  I  suppose  the  foolish 
woman  has  put  the  flag  out  with  that  idea." 

"  Well,  it  strikes  me  we  had  better  go  down  and  see  the 


92  Peggy  g^  Vaccinated. 

poor  woman,  and  quiet  her  fears,"  said  the  parson  medita- 
tively, dropping  his  cigar  into  the  grate. 

"I'll  quiet  her  fears,"  said  Dr.  Gratiot,  sarcastically, 
"  she'll  scare  the  whole  neighborhood."  The  two  profes- 
sionals walked  arm  in  arm  to  Peggy's  house. 

"  There  it  is,  sure  enough,"  said  the  doctor,  with  a  laugh. 
He  pulled  the  flag  off  the  fence  and  put  it  in  his  pocket. 

They  knocked  at  the  door.  "  Who's  thar  ? "  said  a 
faint  voice  inside. 

"  I — the  doctor." 

"Come  in,"  said  the  voice  again. 

Dr.  Gratiot  pushed  the  door  open  and  walked  in  very 
softly. 

There  lay  Peggy  Sproul  on  the  bed  with  a  load  of  blank- 
ets piled  upon  her,  the  sweat  rolling  down  her  woe-begone 
face.  A  little  table  stood  beside  her  with  a  whole  apothe- 
cary shop  on  it. 

"Humph,  that's  right,  sweat  yourself  freely." 

He  took  up  one  bottle  after  another  and  smelled  the 
contents. 

"Ah,  yes;  chloride  of  potash  to  relieve  the  nervous- 
ness— laudanum — pain — sweet  oil — itching — cream-tartar 
— small-pox.  Yes,  yes,  all  right,  just  the  thing.  Feel  bet- 
ter?" he  asked  as  he  felt  her  pulse. 

"  No,  no !     But  the  parson,  send  him  out'n  here." 

"  He's  all  right.  Had  it  all,  havn't  you,  parson  ? "  said 
the  doctor. 


Peggy  gets  Vaccinated.  93 

"  Oh,  ter  think  I'd  hev  the  small-pocks.  That's  it,  ain't 
it,  doctor?"  inquired  Peggy,  mournfully. 

"  Yes.  Confluent.  Worst  kind.  Sores  all  run  together. 
See  here  and  here,"  said  the  doctor,  pointing  to  some  old 
scabs  on  Peggy's  head,  "  terrible,  terrible,"  he  said  shak- 
ing his  head;  "  headache,  backache,  legs  ache,  hair  all  com- 
ing out,"  pointing  to  Peggy's  bald  front;  "fever,  rash, 
small-pox,  small  wit,  small  sense,  fool! "  screamed  the 
doctor. 

Peggy  sat  right  up  in  bed,  her  eyes  snapping  fire.  "  Dew 
yer  mean  ter  tell  me  I  hain't  got  it,  doctor  Grashut  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  do  !  And  more  than  that,  you  are  making  a 
big  fool  of  yourself  besides  ! "  thundered  the  doctor. 

"  After  all  I've  borne  ter  be  treated  so,"  snivelled  Peggy. 

Doctor  Gratiot,  disgusted,  put  on  his  hat  and  retired, 
leaving  the  minister  to  finish  his  pastoral  call. 


94  Job  Retreats. 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

JOB    RETREATS. 

THERE  was  a  quaint  old  fashioned  nobility  about  Job 
Stearns.  He  was  a  frank,  open,  honest  man,  with  a  bluff 
humor,  characteristics  which  rendered  him  a  general  favorite 
with  all  who  knew  him  intimately.  Job  was  a  fine  speci- 
s>«  men  of  the  kind  of  men  America  can  make  out  of  the 
common  stock;  thoroughly  in  love  with  his  country's 
institutions,  believing  in  the  freedom  of  the  American  soil 
to  all  who  can  and  will  assimilate  with  its  offspring. 

He  thought;  and  having  thought,  he  based  his  opin- 
ions upon  what  he  decided  was  the  truth.  Cant,  hollow 
philosophy,  bigotry  and  maudlin  sentimentalism  never 
stirred  him  one  inch  from  the  position  he  might  assume 
concerning  any  question.  Persecution  had  failed  to  do 
what  sentiment  could  not.  Loved  by  the  people,  hated  by 
the  capitalists,  feared  by  Simon  Spud,  distrusted  by  Mrs. 
Caldwell,  and  now  fresh  from  a  plague-tainted  house,  Job 
was  in  an  uncomfortable  position. 

After  he  left  the  grave  of  Deacon  Spud  and  returned 
through  the  driving  rain  to  the  house,  he  felt  as  though  the 
curse  of  the  leper  rested  upon  him.  He  must  enter  no 
man's  house,  he  must  hail  no  passing  friend,  he  must  cool 
his  tongue  at  no  man's  well-curb.  Job  was  an  outcast. 
The  church  closed  her  doors  upon  him.  The  guardian 
of  his  love  folded  her  wings  around  his  idol  and  warned 


Job  Retreats.  95 

him  off.  And  now,  with  the  suspicion  of  possible  varioloid 
resting-  upon  him,  he  would  be  shunned  by  all. 

No  work,  no  home;  he  had  better  go — go  out  of  the 
old  life  into  a  new.  But  could  he  go  and  not  first  see 
Bessie  ?  Yes,  he  must  not  risk  an  interview. 

When  a  suitable  time  had  passed,  and  all  possible  danger 
was  gone,  he  would  write  to  her.  Job  went  out  into  the 
deacon's  wood-shed  and  changed  his  clothes.  He  took 
the  old  ones  and  made  a  bon-fire  of  them.  The  little 
tongues  of  fire,  in  the  deacon's  garden  had  speech  in  them, 
for  they  told  a  tale  to  a  pair  of  tearful  eyes  looking  out 
from  Bessie  Caldwell's  window;  and,  in  the  light,  these 
same  eyes  saw  the  outlined  figure  of  Job  standing  with 
folded  arms  watching  the  fire.  Love  is  quick  to  apprehend 
the  truth. 

"Ah,  he  is  done  with  his  work.  He  will  go  now. 
Where  ?  Not  here.  No,  no.  He  will  leave  town.  Brave 
fellow,  he  has  shown  them  what  courage  and  man- 
liness he  had,  and  now  he  will  leave,  that  they  may 
not  say  he  spread  the  disease.  He  shall  not  go  without 
seeing  me.  I  will  see  him  ? " 

The  face  withdrew  from  the  window,  the  curtain  was 
pulled  down,  and  Bessie  carefully  changed  all  her  garments 
and  wrapped  an  old  sheet  about  her,  first  sprinkling  it  with 
carbolic  acid. 

"He'll  think  I'm  a  ghost!"  she  laughed  to  herself. 

Job  had  put  a  change  of  linen  into  a  big  handkerchief, 


9  6  Job  Retreats. 

and  knotted  the  bundle  to  the  end  of  a  walking-stick. 
He  carefully  closed  all  the  doors  and  windows,  and  started 
forth  again  into  the  stormy  night.  He  could  not  go  with- 
out taking  one  last  glimpse  at  the  home  of  the  object  most 
dear  to  him,  so  he  paused  a  moment  in  front  of  Mrs. 
Caldwell's  house.  He  heard  a  latc^h  lift  and  fall  again  into 
its  place,  and  hastily  started  on. 

"  Fleeing  like  a  thief  in  the  night,"  he  muttered  as  he 
swung  out  on  to  the  broad  road  leading  through  the  woods 
toward  Stockton. 

Just  as  he  was  passing  under  the  spreading  branches  of 
a  huge  oak,  he  saw  a  white  figure  standing  behind  the 
trunk. 

"  Am  I  dreaming,"  he  said  to  himself,  passing  his  hand 
over  his  forehead,  "  or  has  confinement  so  unnerved  me 
that  I  see  spirits  ? " 

"Job,"  called  a  low  voice  from  the  figure. 

"What— -you,  Bessie?" 

"  Yes,  it's  I,  Job.     May  I  come  to  you  ? " 

"No,  no,  not  for  the  world,  Bessie,"  he  cried,  moving 
his  hand  as  though  he  would  push  her  back,  "  don't,  don't 
come  near  me." 

"  But  I  will,  Job.  I  am  not  afraid  of  small-pox;  and  if 
you've  got  it,  I  want  it  too." 

She  ran  to  him,  and  in  a  moment  the  big  arms  were 
clasping  the  dripping  little  figure  in  the- sheet. 

"  Oh,  Bessie,  what  made  you  come  out  here  to  see  me  ? 
Don't  you  know  the  danger  of  it  ? " 


Job  Retreats.  <jj 

"  Why,  Job,"  Bessie  sobbed,  "  did  you  think  I  would  let 
you  leave  and  not  see  you  first  ? " 

"  It  would  have  been  better,"  replied  he,  though  he  held 
her  tightly  while  he  spoke;  "but  how  did  you  know?  I 
did  not  tell  any  one." 

"Yes,  you  did;  you  told  me,"  pouted -Bessie. 

"Told  you?     When?" 

"Why,  I  saw  you  watching  the  fire  in  the  deacon's 
garden,  and  I  knew  you  were  getting  ready  to  go  away." 

We  will  not  intrude  upon  the  scene  which  followed. 
The  vows,  the  promises,  the  sacred  interchange  of  hearts; 
let  them  be  the  secret  of  Bessie  and  Job,  and  the  wild 
storm.  At  length  Job  said,  with  an  effort,  "  But  I  must  go 
now,  Bessie,  I  really  must,"  he  emphasized  as  she  clung  to 
him  still  more. closely. 

"  But,  oh,  Job,  if  you  should  have  the  horrid  disease 
away  in  the  city  all  alone  ? "  sobbed  Bessie,  hysterically. 

"  Why,  then  the  great  God  who  has  ever  cared  for  us 
will  take  care  of  me,"  he  replied. 

"You  will  be  sure  to  write  me?"  said  she,  timidly. 

"  Indeed  I  will,"  he  responded. 

The  parting  ?  Ah,  let  the  great  heart  of  the  big,  noble 
oak  under  which  they  stood  tell  if  it  dare.  What  right 
have  I  to  tell  of  the  long  clinging  embrace,  the  kiss,  strained 
through  the  falling  tears. 

Job  was  gone.  There  he  was,  like  a  brave  soldier, 
marching  to  new  conquests  for  duty,  and  Bessie  was  alone. 


98  Job  Retreats. 

No,  not  alone;  for,  as  she  retraced  her  steps  homeward, 
Job  turned  and  followed  at  a  distance.  He  watched  her 
until  the  little  latch  rose  and  fell  again,  and  then  stoically 
put  out  on  his  journey. 


Simon  Spud  Plots.  99 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

SIMON   SPUD    PLOTS. 

WHILE  Deacon  Spud  was  being  watched  and  cared  for 
by  his  enemy,  or  rather  his  victim,  his  affectionate  and 
promising  son  Simon  was  spending  the  parental  money, 
and  forgetting  the  parental  admonitions,  in  the  city  of  San 
Francisco.  He  had  neither  written  to,  nor  heard  from  his 
father,  since  indirectly  he  had  learned  that  Job  Stearns  was 
in  attendance  upon  him. 

Simon  was  by  nature  incapable  of  affection  ;  selfish,  self- 
asserting,  without  conscience,  unscrupulous  and  ignorant, 
he  constituted  a  dangerous  enemy  to  Job.  He  was  pos- 
sessed of  no  affection  for  his  father,  he  had  no  love  for 
Bessie  Caldwell,  other  than  that  animal  passion  aroused  by 
her  fair  face  and  form. 

It  is  doubtful  if  he  would  have  persevered  in  that  direc- 
tion long,  had  it  not  been  for  the  opposition  of  Job,  and 
the  self-conscious  inferiority  he  felt,  morally,  physically  and 
mentally,  to  his  rival.  He  was  determined  to  out-general 
his  foe.  Possess  the  girl  he  would.  What  right  had  the 
common  foreman  of  his  father's  factories  to  step  in  between 
him  and  the  accomplishment  of  his  desires  ? 

Fair  means  he,  Simon,  had  not  skill  enough  to  employ  ; 
foul,  he  had  tried  and  would  try  again. 

Simon  put  up  at  the  Lick  House.  He  had  used  up  the 
city,  though  it  is  doubtful  if  the  metropolis  felt  any  the 


ioo  Simon  Spud  Plots. 

worse  for  its  using;  up,  and  now  he  was  wearied  of  sight- 
seeing, and  was  waiting  for  some  new  sensation.  San 
Francisco  is  a  good  city  to  enjoy  one's  self  in ;  amuse- 
ments and  places  of  resort  suited  to  all  dispositions  are  to 
be  found  there  ;  but  Simon  Spud's  mind  was  not  cast  in  a 
large  mold,  it  was  narrow,  petty,  trifling ;  bed-rock  run 
near  the  surface. 

Two  days  after  Job  left  Yarbtown,  Simon  was  airing 
himself  and  toothpick  on  the  sidewalk  in  front  of  the  hotel. 

"  Mighty  dull  in  this  confounded  city,"  he  said  to  him- 
self ;  "  if  the  governor  don't  get  well  pretty  soon  or  put 
out  for  new  diggings,  I  must  have  a  run  down  the  coast. 
Wish  something  would  turn  up  to  amuse  a  fellow.  Ought 
to  have  a  fire  or  something  of  the  sort  once  in  a  while. 
By  Jove,  if  that  isn't  Job  Stearns  over  there,  I'll  be ! " 

It  was  Job,  swinging  along  like  an  honest  farmer,  on  the 
other  side  of  Montgomery  street.  Simon  dropped  his 
toothpick  and  stared  at  him  a  moment,  then  darted  across 
the  street  and  followed  behind  Job. 

"  See  where  he  hangs  out  to-night,  watch  him  and  per- 
haps he'll  play  into  my  hands,"  said  Simon  to  himself. 

Job  threaded  his  way  among  the  crowd  to  Market  street 
and  went  into  a  cheap,  respectable  lodging-house. 

"Spotted,"  said  Simon,  as  he  saw  the  door  close  on  Job; 
"and  if  he  sees  Yarbtown  for  another  year,  my  name  is 
not  Simon  Spud." 

Simon  had  read  all  the  yellow-covered  trash  of  the  day, 


Simon  Spud  Plots,  101 

and  his  mind  was  full  of  the  expedients  used  by  the  heroes 
to  rid  themselves  of  obnoxious  rivals.  He  was  too  cow- 
ardly to  do  what  his  heart  was  mean  enough  to  do,  although 
he  would  have  been  glad  to  have  seen  Job's  form  lying 
among  the  stark  figures  in  the  Morgue  ;  more  than  that,  he 
was  too  much  afraid  of  the  muscularity  of  Job  to  under- 
take individually  any  physical  interference  with  his  move- 
ments. Simon  walked  along  the  streets,  wondering  how 
he  could,  the  most  securely  to  himself,  remove  his  rival 
out  of  his  path. 

Whether  it  was  the  instinct  of  the  man,  or  his  evil  gen- 
ius, or  mere  fate,  which  guided  him,  cannot  be  easily  as- 
certained ;  but  certainly  his  footsteps  turned  very  naturally 
toward  the  Barbary  Coast,  and  in  a  little  while  Simon 
found  himself  on  Front  street,  with  the  towering  masts  of 
the  forest  of  vessels  before  him.  These  and  the  knots  of 
half-drunken  sailors  around  him  suggested  a  means  to 
gratify  his  desires. 

"That's  it,  I'll  be if  I  don't  get  him  whangdoodled, 

or  whatever  they  call  it." 

To  think  was  to  act  with  Simon  Spud.  He  seldom 
thought  enough  to  look  ahead  to  consequences  ;  to  have  a 
desire  and  see  before  him  a  way  of  satisfying  it  was  suffi- 
cient. He  had  wit  enough  to  feel  his  way  a  little  carefully, 
however. 

Simon  walked  along  the  wharves,  looking  at  the  ships, 
until  he  saw  one  which  seemed  about  ready  to  put  to  sea, 
and  he  boarded  her. 


IO2  Simon  Spud  Plots. 

"Captain  aboard?"  he  asked  of  one  of  the  foremast 
hands  leaning  on  the  taffrail. 

"No,  but  there's  the  mate  over  there,"  replied  the  sailor, 
jerking  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder,  toward  the  other  side 
of  the  vessel. 

Simon  walked  across  the  deck  and  accosted  the  man  desig- 
nated as  the  mate.  He  asked  him  if  he  was  about  to  sail 
soon. 

"  Yes,  as  soon  as  we  get  our  complement  of  hands,"  re- 
plied the  mate. 

"  Oh,  you  are  taking  in  men  ?  Would  you  like  a  good 
stout  hand  before  the  mast  ? " 

"  Why.  do  you  want  to  ship,  lad  ? " 

The  mate  scanned  Simon's  dandy  figure  from  top  to 
bottom. 

"  Oh  no,  /  don't ;  but  I  have  a  man  whose  constitution 
would  be  benefited  by  a  sea  voyage,"  replied  Simon. 

"  H — !  We  don't  want  any  sick  men  aboard  this  craft; 
why,  man,  she's  bound  for  Australia.  Hands  will  have  to 
be  up  and  at  it  on  this  voyage." 

"That  suits  me;  the  farther  off  she  goes,  the  better  for 
me.  The  fellow  isn't  sick,  he's  a  strong,  healthy  lands- 
man," said  Simon. 

"Oho!  You  want  to  ship  him  whether  or  no,  eh? 
Dangerous  business  in  San  Francisco,  my  lad,"  said  the 
mate,  shaking  his  head  at  Simon  as  he  spoke. 

"  Pshaw,  man,  you  won't  be  back  for  a  twelve-months, 
and  you  can  easily  leave  him  behind." 


Simon  Spud  Plots.  103 

"Ain't  coming  back  in  twelve  months.  We  ship  from 
there  to  Liverpool,"  said  the  mate. 

"  Then  what  are  you  afraid  of? "  said  Simon,  "you  want 
hands,  and  he's  a  good  one." 

"  Can't  do  it,"  replied  the  mate;  "  too  much  risk." 

"  I'll  give  you  a  hundred  dollars  to  get  him  off  for  me," 
said  Simon,  looking  around  to  see  that  nobody  heard  him. 

"  Now  you  talk  business,"  said  the  mate,  grinning;  "  per- 
haps I  can  get  some  of  the  boys  to  persuade  him  to  ship." 

"  You  do  it  and  I'll  pay  you  and  the  men." 

"  Hand  over  the  shiners,  lad,  and  show  us  the  man." 

Simon  pulled  out  his  purse  and  counted  out  the  money 
and  passed  it  over  to  the  mate. 

"  Send  your  men  up  to  the  corner  of  Market  and  Mont- 
gomery to-night  at  six,  and  I'll  spot  him  for  them;  but 
they  must  do  the  rest.  I  don't  want  to  mix  in  the  matter," 
he  said,  as  he  turned  to  leave  the  ship. 

"  D —  coward,"  said  the  mate  to  himself,  "  wants  a  dirty 
job  done  for  him  because  his  coward  hands  are  afraid  to 
touch  the  fellow;  but  a  hundred  dollars  ain't  to  be  sneered 
at" 


IO4  Job  Shanghaed. 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

JOB    SHANGHAED. 

SAN  FRANCISCO  was  a  novelty  to  Job  Stearns,  although  he 
had  been  there  several  times  before. 

Rip  Van  Winkle  slept  twenty  years  and  came  back  to 
find  his  wife  dead,  his  daughter  married  and  all  his  old 
cronies  in  the  grave-yard.  The  San  Franciscan  leaves  his 
pet  city  for  one-quarter  of  that  time,  and  .comes  back  to 
find  his  wife  gone  off  with  some  other  man,  his  old  cronies 
sporting  diamond  pins  and  among  the  fortunate  bulls  of 
California  street,  and  the  city  spread  out  like  an  encroach- 
ing sea.  It  makes  wonderful  strides  in  a  year. 

Civilization  pushes  to  new  conquests,  new  fields;  bar- 
barism, heathenism,  takes  the  old  fields  and  pushes  close 
on  its  heels,  driving  out  the  lingering  remnants  of  refine- 
ment, and  forming  an  impassable  barrier  against  the 
returning  tide  of  civilization. 

Plant  tobacco  in  your  field  and  it  destroys  the  soil  for 
aught  else.  There  must  be  patient  waiting  and  a  thorough 
renovation  of  the  land  before  it  can  again  yield  the  fair 
and  juicy  fruit.  On  some  of  the  best  soil  of  America  are 
Chinese  institutions  planted. 

They  poison  the  earth,  they  suck  the  richness,  the  nour- 
ishment out,  and  leave  the  impoverished  dust,  while  they 
return  to  China  to  jingle  their  pockets  and  laugh  in  their 
sleeves  at  us  like  Yankee  clock-peddlers. 


Job  Shanghaed.  105 

"  Marvelous ! "  exclaimed  Job,  as  he  mentally  con- 
trasted the  city  with  what  it  was  ten  years  before.  "  Mar- 
velous!" as  he  gazed  at  the  Grand  Hotel,  the  Mint. 

Everything  had  changed.  Changed  so  far  as  the  first 
few  hours'  inspection  were  concerned. 

"Wonderful  race  of  men,  these  Californians." 

Yes,  it  is  the  men,  not  circumstances,  who  have  made 
San  Francisco  what  it  is  to-day.  The  brave,  enduring, 
pushing  men  of  the  world  have  congregated  there,  and 
their  work  has  been  grand.  But  Job  Stearns  was  destined 
to  take  a  new  view  of  affairs  before  another  day  had  gone 
over  his  head. 

"Chinamen;  Chinese  influence;  Chinese  labor; "  these 
were  constantly  intruding  into  his  thoughts.  He  would 
see  the  Chinatown  of  the  city.  He  would  find  out  whether 
he  was  mistaken  in  his  estimate  of  their  value  to  California 
or  not.  He  chose  an  hour  late  in  the  afternoon  for  his 
investigation.  Disdaining  the  protection  of  a  policeman, 
and  trusting  in  his  own  muscle  for  protection,  he  entered 
Chinese  San  Francisco.  It  was  like  leaving  the  sunshine 
and  entering  the  darkest  night,  as  he  left  the  quiet  streets 
and  peaceful  dwellings  of  his  own  race  and  plunged  into 
the  Chinese  quarters.  Rubbish,  garbage  of  all  kinds 
strewed  the  walks,  and  his  eyes  were  saluted  by  chicken 
coops,  his  ears  by  grunting,  filthy  hogs. 

The  very  sidewalks  sent  up  their  heathenish  odors  as  the 
planks  gave  way  under  his  tread.  Crowded,  teeming  full, 


io6  Job  Shanghaed. 

were  the  houses  everywhere.  Not  a  doorway,  not  a  win- 
dow did  he  see,  but  that  a  grinning  Chinaman  occupied  it. 

"Well,  here  is  one  landmark  left,"  he  said,  as  he  caught 
sight  of  an  old  hotel. 

He  entered  the  doorway.  It  was  swarming,  lousy,  with 
pig- tails. 

"  Sixty  rooms,  and  a  regiment  of  Chinamen  in  it," 

He  went  into  the  temples  of  worship.  Red -faced,  long- 
whiskered,  imbecile  gods  stared  at  him.  He  caught 
glimpses  of  white  boys  entering  the  lowest,  vilest  haunts, 
where  vice  is  dealt  out  for  the  fractional  part  of  a  dollar. 

"Phew!  Horrors!  I  suffocate!  Let  me  get  down  to  the 
Bay  and  get  a  breath  of  fresh  air." 

He  hurried  out  of  Chinatown.  He  found  himself  on 
the  "  Barbary  Coast."  Here  was  white  rot.  Courtesans, 
hoodlums,  drunkards,  swarmed  the  streets.  Job  rubbed 
his  eyes. 

"  Where's  the  choice  ? "  said  he  to  himself;  "  is  it  possi- 
ble our  young  men  take  their  first  lessons  here,  as  Mr 

says,  and  then  graduate  in  Chinatown  ? " 

Hold  on,  Job,  don't  believe  that;  poor  men  generally 
take  their  first  steps  at  the  cheapest  place.  Children's 
spending  money  will  not  buy  vice  here.  There's  sophistry, 
to  say  the  least,  in  that  sentence  of  Mr. 's. 

Is  Barbary  Coast  all  of  white  San  Francisco  ?  Thank 
God,  No !  This  is  but  a  small  proportion  of  the  civilized 
inhabitants  of  San  Francisco.  But  all  Chinatown  reeks. 


Job  Shanghaed.  107 

One  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  Chinamen,  out  of  which 
perhaps  three  hundred  have  been  converted  to  Christianity ! 
Have  not  more  than  three  hundred  white  souls  paid  a 
price  for  them  ?  Ay,  ten  times  three  hundred ! 

Away  with  such  fallacy!     Shall  we  flood  a  whole  city/ 
with  rottenness,  in  order  that  we  may  extract  a  few  valua- 
ble gases  from  it  ?     Ah,  Job,  you  are  right.     Go  ahead — 
fight  fanaticism,  fight  bigotry,  fight  the  wrong  use  of  capital, 
— and  God  bless  the  right. 

Job  walked  through  the  streets  with  his  head  down, 
thinking,  weighing,  and  thinking  and  weighing  again. 

Three  men  suddenly  stepped  up  to  him  and  hailed  him: 

"  Hallo,  mate,  let's  have  a  drink." 

Job  paid  no  attention  to  them,  but  walked  on. 

One  of  them  stepped  in  front  of  him  and  leering  in  his 
face,  said :  "  Guess  we'd  better  take  a  wet,  hadn't  we,  eh  ? " 

Job  pushed  him  away  with  a  sniff  of  contempt,  and 
started  to  leave  them  at  a  brisk  walk.  The  fellow  ran  up 
behind  him,  and  with  a  sudden  blow  drew  a  long  bag  of 
sand  across  the  back  of  Job's  head. 

Stearns  fell  like  a  stunned  bullock. 

"  G — ,  Bill,  you've  killed  him,"  said  one  of  the  men. 

"  Well,  d —  him,  he  needn't  have  been  so  d —  obstinate." 

"  What'll  we  do? "  said  the  other,  anxiously,  "you  know 
we  were  to  get  him  drunk  an'  not  hurt  him." 

The  other  man  was  bending  over  Job,  feeling  his  pulse 
and  heart. 


io8  Job  Shanghaed. 

"Hold  on,  mates,  no  need  to  run,  he's  only  stunned. 
Let's  rush  him  down  to  the  boat  before  a  star  comes 
along." 

The  men  took  Job  up,  and  keeping  close  to  the  houses, 
carried  him  down  to  the  wharf  and  putting  him  into  the 
boat  in  waiting,  pulled  off  to  the  ship,  now  lying  out  in  the 
Bay. 


Simon  Assails  the  Citadel.  109 

CHAPTER  XX. 

SIMON    ASSAILS   THE   CITADEL. 

WHEN  Bessie  returned  to  the  house  after  parting  from 
Job,  her  heart  was  filled  with  conflicting  emotions.  She 
had  seen  Job,  and  he  had  sealed  their  affection  with  re- 
newed promises;  she  had  seen  Job,  and  he  had  gone  away 
from  her  with  the  sword  of  Damocles  hanging  over  him. 
The  one  remembrance  produced  the  keenest  sensation  of 
joy;  the  other,  acute  grief  and  anxiety. 

Bessie  was  a  brave  girl  though,  and  her  courageous 
heart  doubled  its  fists  in  determination  to  suffer  and  endure, 
and  to  await  patiently  the  decrees  of  Providence.  She  stole 
softly  into  the  house,  and  quietly  entering  her  chamber  to 
avoid  awakening  her  mother,  she  threw  herself  upon  the 
bed  and  gave  way  to  her  feelings  in  a  burst  of  tears.  So 
patient  was  she  as  the  days  went  by,  that  the  Widow  Cald- 
well  flattered  herself  the  worst  was  over,  and  her  daughter 
had  by  a  great  effort  conquered  herself. 

Bessie  was  only  waiting;  waiting  with  a  heart  full  of 
faith  in  Job;  waiting  the  promised  letter.  A.  week  had 
gone,  however,  and  no  word  had  come.  Every  day  the 
post-office  was  visited  in  anxiety. 

Simon  Spud  had  returned  meanwhile,  since  all  danger 
was  gone,  and  had  assumed  control  cf  his  father's  business. 
The  contemptible  whelp  presumed  upon  the  absence  of 
Job  to  begin  again  his  attempts  to  worm  his  way  into 


no  Simon  Assails  the  Citadel. 

Bessie's  affections.  Bouquets  and  gewgaws  began  to  come 
.  to  her  from  unknown  sources,  followed  at  last  by  the 
presence  of  Simon  himself. 

Bessie  was  a  wise  little  body,  and  while  her  whole  nature 
revolted  at  the  approaches  of  Simon,  she  remembered  that 
he  had  come  from  the  great  city,  and  it  was  just  possible 
that  he  might  have  met  Job  in  his  wanderings.  She  de- 
termined to  play  upon  the  silly  fellow's  fascination,  and 
work  his  secret,  if  he  had  any,  out  of  him.  She  was  the 
more  decided  to  pursue  this  plan,  from  some  hints  which 
the  shallow-brained  Simon  had  thrown  out  since  his  re- 
turn, concerning  Job.  These  hints  consisted  in  remarks 
to  the  effect  that  if  he  told  all  he  knew  of  the  doings  of  Job 
Stearns,  some  people  would  alter  their  opinion  of  him 
materially. 

Simon  parted  his  hair  behind,  pomaded  his  goatee  and 
mustache,  perfumed  himself  and  called  upon  Bessie  one 
day,  decided  upon  a  direct  charge  upon  her  heart.  Bessie 
played  the  hypocrite  well,  and  received  him  with  marked 
cordiality. 

"Why,  Simon,  what  a  stranger  you  are!  I'm  so  glad 
to  see  you.  Are  you  not  afraid  to  catch  the  small-pox  at 
your  house  ? " 

"I  don't  stay  there,  you  bet,  Bessie.  I've  too  much 
sense  to  do  such  a  foolish  thing,"  replied  Simon. 

"  How  lonesome  you  must  be  since  your  father  died," 
said  Bessie,  sympathetically. 


Simon  Assails  the  Citadel.  in 

"  Well,  'tis  kind  of  lonesome,  but  then  I'm  rich  now, 
Bessie.  I've  got  over  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  now/' 
said  Simon,  running  his  thumb  through  the  button-hole  of 
his  lappel. 

"  Oh  my,  Simon!  You  ought  to  get  married  now,"  said 
Bessie. 

"  Well,  yes,  I  think  I  could  afford  it  now,  don't  you  ?  *' 

Simon  hitched  his  chair  up  close  to  Bessie  and  crossed 
one  leg  over  the  other.  Bessie's  heart  fluttered  anxiously. 
She  anticipated  what  was  coming,  but  it  was  too  soon; 
she  wanted  some  information  first,  so  she  hastily  said: 

"Job  Stearns  took  good  care  of  your  father,  Simon.  I 
wonder  where  the  poor  fellow  is? " 

"  I  suppose  I  could  tell  you  if  I  wanted  to." 

Simon  had  a  knowing  look  on  his  face,  as  if  he  had 
great  news  to  tell. 

"  I  guess  he  is  all  right,"  said  Bessie;  "  he  went  away  to 
avoid  giving  the  disease  to  any  one." 

"  The  h —  he  did — I  beg  pardon,  Miss  Bessie,  but  Job 
is  a  dissipated  fellow,"  said  Simon. 

Bessie  was  on  the  point  of  answering  the  fool  according 
to  his  folly,  but  the  desire  to  get  news  of  Job  kept  her  in 
restraint,  so  she  simply  said: 

"  Why,  what  new  thing  has  he  been  doing,  Simon  ? " 

"Nothing  new,"  replied  Simon,  "its  the  old  story.  I 
saw  him  cavorting  around  among  the  Chinese  on  Dupont 
street.  Job  is  mighty  fond  of  the  Chinese,  you  know." 


112  Simon  Assails  the  Citadel. 

"  Oh  dear,  is  that  so  ?  Did  you  really  see  him,  and  he 
didn't  have  the  small-pox  after  all  ? "  said  Bessie. 

"He?  No,  not  he.  Job's  a  hypocrite,  Bessie;  all  his 
former  friends  say  so." 

Bessie  was  sure  Simon  had  seen  Job,  but  the  rest  of  the 
tale  went  in  at  one  ear  and  out  at  the  other.  The  relief  to 
her  mind  was  such,  however,  that  she  buried  her  face  in 
her  hands,  whjle  the  tears  of  joy  streamed  through  her 
fingers.  Simon  attributed  these  evidences  of  feeling  to  a 
vastly  different  cause,  and  put  his  arm  gradually  about  her 
waist.  Bessie  didn't  resist;  she  knew  that  Job  was  alive, 
that's  all  she  wanted  of  Simon  Spud;  but  the  devil  in  her, 
and  she  had  one  as  big  as  a  woodchuck  in  her  eye  this 
moment,  tempted  her  to  take  revenge  upon  the  man  whose 
perfidy  had  done  so  much  to  destroy  Job. 

Simon  pressed  close  up  to  her  and  whispered: 

"  Don't  you  know  how  much  /  love  you,  Bessie." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  murmured  the  hypocrite. 

A  thrill  ran  all  through  Simon,  and  his  face  glowed  until 
the  pomade  melted  on  his  mustache;  he  threw  himself 
on  his  knees  in  the  position  he  had  practiced  a  hundred 
times  in  his  own  room,  and  kissed  the  braid  of  her  dress; 
then  he  shoved  his  fist  into  his  bosom  and  beating  his 
stomach  with  the  other,  said: 

"  My  adorable  Bessie,  all  my  heart  palpitates  with  love 
for  you;  the  angel  of  my  father  smiles  upon  my  suit.  Oh, 
be  mine,  Bessie!  I  lay  my  heart,  my  property,  at  your 
feet!" 


••-  -T>^> 

- 


SlMON  SPUDWOOS. 


Simon  Assails  the  Citadel,  113 

Bessie  sighed. 

"  Won't  you  answer  me,  adorable  one  ? "  he  cried,  after 
waiting  a  moment;  "I  pause  in  agitation.  'Forget  the  lost 
Lenore/  and  receive  me  to  your  bosom!" 

"  Oh ! "  sighed  Bessie. 

She  was  shaking  with  suppressed  emotion;  it  was  amuse- 
ment; Simon  augured  victory.  He  sprung  to  his  feet  and 
throwing  both  arms  around  her  neck,  tried  to  implant  a 
kiss  on  her  buried  face.  Bessie  slily  closed  her  fingers 
tightly  over  her  face,  and  murmured,  with  a  voice  trem- 
bling with  the  laugh  which  she  with  difficulty  restrained, 
•'  Simon,  you  must  not  do  so,  you  know." 

The  artful  girl  played  her  cards  well;  she  led  him  on 
until  his  lips  were  just  about  to  quaff  the  nectar,  and  then 
by  a  flank  movement  utterly  disconcerted  him.  Simon 
was  still  pursuing  her  with  his  endearments  when  the  widow 
came  into  the  room.  She  suspected  nothing,  however,  for 
Simon  and  Bessie  were  sitting  demurely  six  feet  apart. 

When  Simon  arose  to  go,  Bessie  said,  "  You'll  come 
again  to-morrow,  Simon,  and  then  you  can  finish  telling 
me  the  news  about  Job  Stearns." 

Bessie  was  on  a  new  tack;  she  had  determined  to  draw 
Simon  out,  and  see  how  far  he  would  carry  what  she  knew 
in  her  heart  to  be  slanders  about  Job,  and  to  what  lengths 
he  would  permit  his  own  folly  to  lead  him.  Such  a  course 
promised  ample  revenge  upon  the  scamp. 

Simon  went  out  from  the  presence  of  Bessie  drunk  with 


114  Simon  Assails  the  Citadel. 

happiness,  that  is,  with  the  kind  of  happiness  such  men 
usually  enjoy. 

"  She  had  encouraged  him.  She  had  virtually  accepted 
him;  only  the  inopportune  interruption  had  prevented  her 
from  throwing  herself,  a  free  and  entire  gift,  plump  into 
his  arms/' 

Such  were  the  thoughts  of  Simon  Spud  as  he  passed  out 
of  the  radiance  of  his  shrine;  thoughts  which  sent  a  vig- 
orous thrill  along  his  backbone,  and  turned  the  houses  and 
trees  bottom-side  up. 

He  was  so  full  of  exuberance  that,  to  keep  himself  from 
mounting  the  steeple  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  and  pro- 
claiming his  joy  to  all  the  village,  he  went  into  the  saloon 
on  his  way  home  and  drank  one  glass  after  another  of 
brlndy  straight.  His  tongue  loosened  itself  more  and 
more  as  he  drank,  and  in  half  an  hour  after  he  left  Bessie 
he  was  boasting  to  the  crowd  of  his  associates  of  his  feat 
in  out-flanking  Job  Stearns. 

"  D —  it  boys,  I  knew  the  girl  would  accept  me.  I  had 
only  to  recall  to  her  mind  the  estate  my  father  left  me, 
and  then,  you  know,  appeal  a  little  to  the  dear  girl's  real 
affection  for  me — she's  dead  in  love,  fellers — and  the  job 
was  done.  Job  will  have  to  shine  himself  up  a  little  'fore 
he  tries  to  run  that  little  game  against  me."  Simon 
scanned  his  own  figure  complacently  as  he  spoke. 

"  You'd  better  make  yourself  scarce,  Sime,  when  Job 
comes  back;  he'll  make  mince-meat  out'n  you,"  remarked 
one  of  the  men  in  response  to  Simon's  boasting. 


Simon  Assails  the  Citadel.  115 

"  Ye-as — ivhen  he  comes  back,"  said  Simon,  in  a  maud- 
lin voice. 

He  continued  to  drink,  and  before  he  left,  he  recounted 
the  whole  story  of  his  call  on  Bessie.  It  was  not  just  pleasant 
to  Bessie  to  hear  the  next  day  that  she  was  engaged  to  Simon 
Spud.  If  she  had  heard  also  how  he  had  coupled  her  name 
with  his  in  a  drunken  revel  at  the  saloon,  she  would  have 
hidden  her  face  in  shame;  but  hearing  only  what  she  did, 
she  determined  to  pursue  her  present  course  until  the  con- 
ceited, mean-spirited  puppy  was  completely  in  her  toils. 

Job  had  refused  to  clear  himself  from  the  base  charges 
brought  against  him  at  the  church  trial,  by  using  the  testi- 
mony of  Ah  Chung's  woman;  "Perhaps,"  thought  Bessie, 
"  he  will  use  mine,  if  I  can  work  it  out  of  Simon  Spud." 


n6  Greek  Meets  Greek. 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

GREEK   MEETS    GREEK. 

THE  possessions  of  Deacon  Spud  had  reverted,  by 
his  death,  to  Simon,  his  son  and  only  heir.  The  prop- 
erty had  increased  rapidly  with  the  growth  of  the  town; 
good  buildings  had  supplanted  the  shanties  formerly  used 
by  the  deacon,  and  he  had  added  new  industries,  one  after 
another,  to  the  original  potato  factory.  Canning  and  dry- 
ing of  fruits  employed,  with  the  other  industries,  a  large 
number  of  men  and  girls  at  all  seasons  of  the  year.  Dea- 
con Spud  had  intended  introducing  Chinamen  into  his 
buildings,  hoping  thereby  to  increase  his  earthly  store;  but 
he  possessed  great  keenness  of  foresight,  and  proposed 
making  this  change  as  gradually  and  quietly  as  possible. 

Simon  Spud,  while  he  was  possessed  of  the  same  itch- 
ing palm,  had  little  of  his  father's  real  sharpness.  He 
flattered  himself  he  was  sharp,  but  his  sharpness  showed 
its  edge  too  plainly.  His  plans  were  shallow,  like  his 
mind.  In  short,  Simon  Spud  was  a  foolish,  blundering, 
self-conceited,  overbearing,  incapable  man  of  business. 
The  general  plan  of  his  father  was  known  to  him,  but  of 
its  minutiae  he  was  in  ignorance.  There  is  a  way  of  let- 
ting men  down  easily.  Deacon  Spud  understood  it; 
Simon  did  not. 

Government  can  impose  the  most  obnoxious  laws  upon 
a  people  by  a  gradual  process;  but  let  the  Legislature  sud- 


Greek  Meets  Greek.  117 

denly  attempt  to  give  such  laws  to  the  people  and  they  are 
in  arms  in  a  moment.  We  can  break  the  unruly  bullock 
to  the  yoke  by  a  gradual,  careful  approach,  and  he  be- 
comes used  to  its  touch  and  resents  it  but  little;  approach 
him,  however,  suddenly  the  first  time,  and  cast  the  yoke 
about  his  neck,  then  we  must  look  out  for  his  horns. 

Simon  had  no  knowledge  of  human  nature.  One  of 
his  first  steps,  upon  assuming  control  of  his  father's  prop- 
erty, was  to  suddenly  pay  off  all  the  white  hands  and 
notify  them  to  leave  at  the  end  of  the  week.  Before  they 
had  left,  even,  he  brought  in  a  horde  of  Chinamen  and 
placed  them  under  the  factory  tuition  of  the  Celestials 
whom  his  father  had  before  employed.  There  was  an  in- 
stantaneous rebellion. 

The  white  laborers  refused  to  finish  their  week's  labor. 
Mutterings,  like  the  growl  of  the  approaching  thunder- 
storm, were  heard.  The  men  loitered  in  groups  about  the 
doors  and  stoned  the  almond-eyed  as  they  went  in  and  out. 
A  general  hue  and  cry  was  raised,  and  the  very  school- 
children joined  the  rebelling  army,  and  pelted  the  China- 
men on  the  streets.  It  was  not  owing  to  their  natural 
depravity,  altogether;  they  imbibed  the  notion  that  their 
rights  were  being  taken  from  them,  and  took  this  unchris- 
tian way  of  retaliating. 

Acts  like  those  of  Simon  Spud  always  produce  such  re- 
sults as  these  among  the  class  of  laborers,  who,  after  all, 
are  the  backbone  of  society.  Vain  attempts  were  made  to 


nS  Greek  Meets  Greek. 

compel  the  Chinese  to  relinquish  the  field;  but  John  Chi- 
naman is  grand  in  his  obstinate  patience.  Openly,  they  are 
unresisting.  They  mutter  and  shake  their  fists,  but  all  the 
while  hold  tenaciously  to  the  ground.  Once  in  possession 
of  the  field  of  any  labor,  they  are  there  forever,  or  until 
the  great  arm  of  the  law  removes  them.  They  burn  all 
bridges,  they  never  voluntarily  retreat. 

While  these  events  were  transpiring  in  his  business 
affairs,  Simon  continued  his  wooing.  Day  after  day  Bessie 
received  him  in  the  most  flattering  manner.  One  evening 
he  called  after  nerving  himself  with  a  few  glasses  of  wine. 
Bessie's  nostrils  caught  the  odor;  Bessie's  eyes  saw  the 
glisten  of  the  eye;  Bessie's  ears  detected  the  volubility  of 
his  tongue,  and  she  perceived  her  opportunity.  She  per- 
mitted his  approaches,  she  allowed  him  to  draw  his  chair 
close  to  her. 

"You  are  in  fine  spirits  to-day,  Simon,"  she  said. 

"  Why  shouldn't  I  be,  my  darling,  with  the  angel  of  my 
heart  beside  me  ?  Ah,  how  delightful  are  these  moments, 
how  sweet ! "  Here  he  essayed  a  kiss.  She  repelled  him 
with: 

"No,  not  now,  Simon;  perhaps,  you  know,  sometime." 

"Bessie,"  he  continued,  "did  you  hear  that  I  have  em- 
ployed Chinamen  to  work  my  factories  ?  They  cost  me 
only  one-half  of  the  former  expense.  Won't  I  be  rich, 
now  ?  Won't  we  know  how  to  spend  the  shiners,  though  ? " 

Bessie  curbed  her  rising  indignation  and  only  said: 

"  Why  yes,  Simon,  you  will  be  rich  now." 


Greek  Meets  Greek.  119 

"You  bet!" 

"After  all,  Job  Stearns  was  mistaken  in  thinking  they 
would  only  bring  trouble,  wasn't  he  ? "  inquired  the  sly 
plotter. 

"  Now  do  you  think  so  ?  I  knew  so  a  long  time  ago, 
and  between  you  and  me,  he  would  have  done  a  sight  of 
injury  to  the  business  if  it  hadn't  been  for  me,"  replied 
Simon, 

"Shol  l?id  you  prevent  all  this  mischief?  How  did 
you  do  it,  dear?" 

"  Well,  of  course  you  won't  tell,  since  my  interests  are 
yours,  you  know,"  said  Simon,  with  a  knowing  wink  at 
her;  "  I  just  invested  a  few  dollars  in  Chinatown  and  com- 
pletely kerflummerated  him." 

"Why,  do  tell!  How  did  you  invest  it,  Simon?"  said 
Bessie,  running  her  fingers  through  his  hair  until  they  each 
and  separately  quivered  with  electricity. 

"Sh — let  me  whisper  it,  my  darling.  I  paid  Ah  Chung 
to  go  to  the  church  trial  and  blow  on  Job,"  whispered 
Simon,  confidentially. 

"  Why,  how  cute,"  said  the  outward  Bessie,  while  the 
inward  Bessie  ached  to  lay  him  on  the  floor  in  a  different 
position  from  the  one  he  assumed  a  few  days  before. 

"  Yes,  'twas  cute,  though  he  nearly  upset  it,  all  through 
that  blamed  woman.  She  was  going  to  blab  the  whole 
affair,  but  dad  saved  her  that  trouble." 

"  You  did  outwit  him  and  prevent  him  from  doing  lots 
of  harm,  didn't  you  ? " 


12O  Greek  Meets  Greek. 

"Bet!  Why,  you  see,  such  men  are  dangerous  to  a 
community;  they  rouse  the  people  with  their  never-ending 
talk.  I  did  what  was  fair  in  war.  I  had  to  lose  or  else 
he,  and  as  he  begun  it,  why  h-e  m-u-st  t-a-k-e  the  c-o-n- 
5-e — " 

Simon  was  fast  getting  the  worst  of  his  potations,  and 
Bessie  saw  it.  She  hurriedly  said : 

"  Oh,  I  must  see  mother;  she's  up  stairs.  ^Good-night, 
Simon." 

"Go-o-d  n-ight,  angel,"  stuttered  Simon,  and  the  front 
door  shut  behind  him. 

"  Goody !  goody !  I  have  it  all  now.  How  brilliant  to 
tell  it  all  to  me,  to  me  of  all  others.  Oh,  how  I  ached  to 
tell  him  what  I  thought  of  him !  But  wait,  only  wait." 

Bessie's  little  fists  were  doubled  up,  and  in  her  brave 
little  heart  she  was  pommeling  the  contemptible  fellow 
who  had  just  left  her. 


The  Warning.  121 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE    WARNING. 

SIMON  SPUD  made  the  great  mistake  of  his  life  by  em- 
ploying the  Chinese  in  preference  to  men  of  his  own  race. 
No  man  can  prosper  who  squares  off  and  makes  fight 
against  the  country  which  gave  him  birth,  the  institutions 
which  are  the  foundations  of  his  business.  It  takes  longer 
for  a  man  to  find  this  out  in  a  large  mercantile  pursuit 
than  in  the  petty  business  of  a  neighborhood.  The  re- 
turns of  retribution  come  in  more  slowly,  but  they  come. 

Even  the  denizens  of  Yarbtown  who  had  withdrawn 
their  patronage  in  the  laundry  line  from  Mrs.  Caldwell, 
felt,  in  their  small  way,  some  of  the  results.  The  first  few 
times  the  garments  came  back  in  excellent  order,  but  when 
John  monopolized  the  business,  controlled  the  prices,  and 
had  contaminated  the  reputation  of  it  until  .no  white 
woman  would  do  such  work,  then  bosoms  were  scorched, 
buttons  cut  off,  collars  fringed  at  the  edge,  and  so  forth. 

Mrs.  Caldwell  suffered  severely  from  the  loss  of  her 
business,  but  she  thanked  heaven  that  her  people  had  not 
yet  sunk  so  low  as  to  patronize  boarding-houses  kept  by 
Chinamen.  She  was  a  willing  woman  to  work,  and  she 
set  an  excellent  table,  and  the  Father  in  whose  hands  are 
the  lines  of  the  widow  and  orphan  sent  her  abundance  to 
do.  The  men  of  the  town,  however,  were  not  so  for- 
tunate. Their  labor  taken  from  them,  they  found  it  dim- 


122  The  Warning. 

cult  to  find  a  lasting  substitute.  Simon's  day  was  to  come. 
Money  for  lawsuits,  his  foes  had  none.  They  were  not 
moved  by  the  thought  that  unlawful  deeds  of  violence 
might  rebound  upon  them,  they  thought  only  of  revenge. 
No  man  or  woman  of  good  sense  or  judgment  favors  the 
taking  of  the  law  into  one's  own  hands. 

The  abuse  of  Chinamen,  the  burning  and  destroying  of 
works  in  which  they  are  employed,  are  not  only  to  be 
deprecated,  but  vigorously  frowned  upon.  But  men  have 
done  such  things,  and  as  long  as  human  nature  remains 
the  same  as  it  is,  as  long  as  the  provoking  cause  remains 
unremedied  and  unassailed  by  those  in  authority,  so  long 
will  they  undoubtedly  continue  to  do,  to  the  sorrow  of  all 
good  people. 

Simon  Spud  received  several  letters  from  unknown 
sources,  sent  not  through  the  mail,  but  under  the  crack  of 
his  door,  and  containing  such  implied  threats  as  these: 

"  The  sword  of  Damocles  hangs  over  you.  Discharge 
the  pig-tails,  or  we  will  have  a  dish  of  roast  potatoes." 

"Your  starch  is  cold  starch,  it  needs  warming." 

"Canned  fruit  is  better  cooked;  keep  the  yallers  and 
the  boys  will  'tend  to  that  fer  you." 

Simon  Spud  was  a  coward;  these  silly  threats  filled  him 
with  alarm,  and  he  slept  with  a  couple  of  loaded  revolvers 
under  his  pillow,  and  bought  his  whisky  by  the  gallon  to 
avoid  the  barrooms.  Simon  was  fast  becoming  a  sot; 
money  was  too  much  for  him.  He  dare  not  stand  watch 


The  Warning.  123 

himself,  so  he  sent  out  of  town  and  imported  a  watchman 
to  parade  around  the  factories. 

One  night  Simon  was  sitting  in  his  room,  guzzling  his 
whisky  and  dreaming  maudlin  dreams  of  his  future  with 
Bessie,  when  there  came  a  knock  at  the  door.  He 
roused  himself  and  opened  it,  when  four  men  came  in. 

"Good  evening,  gents;  have  chairs." 

"We  can  say  what  we've  got  to  say  standing,"  said  one 
of  the  men. 

"What  can  I  do  for  you,  Bill  ?  "  inquired  Simon. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Spud,  there's  only  one  thing  we  want,  and 
I  rather  think  you'll  let  us  have  it,  don't  you,  boys  ? "  he 
said,  turning  to  the  other  three. 

"  You  bet,"  replied  the  men. 

Simon  was  shaking  from  head  to  foot.  How  foolish  a 
man  looks  when  he  is  angry  and  afraid  at  the  same  time. 
Simon  was  both  scared  and  angry,  so  he  stood  trembling 
with  both  feelings.  He  knew  what  they  wanted,  and  was 
trying  to  conjure  up  some  way  of  escape.  At  last  he 
asked: 

"What  is  it  you  want  ?" 

"Well,  Sime,  to  come  right  straight  to  the  point,  we 
want  the  pig-tails  turned  off,  and  us  turned  in." 

"  Not  by  a — ,"  he  was  commencing,  when  he  was  inter- 
rupted by  the  spokesman  of  the  party. 

"  We  didn't  come  here  to  be  sworn  at,  we  come  like 
gentlemen,  and  want  a  gentleman's  answer.  We  don't 


124  The  Warning. 

intend  to  argue  the  question  at  all.  We  are  friendly,  and 
wish  to  save  you  and  ourselves  from  trouble.  Will  you,  or 
will  you  not  employ  us  again  ?  " 

"Let  me  have  time  to  think  about  it,"  said  Simon; 
"  come  here  again  to-morrow,  and  I'll  let  you  know." 

"Won't  do,"  replied  the  man;  "we  want  an  answer  to- 
night." 

"  Oh,  you  are  the  fellows  who  sent  me  the  letters,  are 
you  ?  Going  to  burn  me  out,  are  you  ?  Mighty  cute  to 
come  here  and  let  me  see  who  you  are.  Go  ahead;  I've 
spotted  you  now,"  said  Simon,  gathering  courage  from  the 
thought. 

"  We've  written  you  no  letters,  we  never  thought  of  burn- 
ing you  out,"  replied  the  man  again;  "but  I'll  tell  you 
what  we  have  done  and  intend  to  do.  We  have  pledged 
three-fourths  of  the  farmers  and  dealers  of  this  neighbor- 
hood to  sell  their  produce  to  us  at  the  same  rates  at  which 
you  buy  them,  and  we  have  secured  capital  enough  to 
start  us.  We  intend  to  go  ahead.  Now  do  you  under- 
stand ? " 

Simon  did  understand,  but  he  remembered  the  cash  he 
had  laid  away  in  the  bank,  and  having  the  same  foolish 
notion  as  many  others,  that  money  can  do  anything,  he 
laughed  in  their  faces  and  answered: 

"  Do  you  think  you  can  run  me  out  with  borrowed  cap- 
ital, when  I  can  count  a  thousand  to  your  one  dollar  ? 
Pshaw!" 


The  Warning,  125 

"  We  have  no  borrowed  money,  but  we  have  capital  to 
back  us  up.  Now,  Simon,  we  give  you  one  more  chance 
to  find  us  honest  work  in  your  establishments  in  the  place 
of  your  Chinamen.  If  you  don't,  we  shall  go  on  as  we 
have  begun." 

Simon  breathed  more  easily  when  he  found  that  no 
violence  was  offered,  and  he  grew  bolder;  he  turned  to  the 
men  and  pointing  to  the  door,  said:  "No\v  you  git,  for 
I'll  be  dogoned  if  I  will  be  browbeat  by  any  man  in  this 
town." 

The  men  did  not  wait  for  a  second  invitation  to  leave, 
but  walked  quietly  out  of  the  room. 

"If  they  had  really  meant  to  burn  me  out,  I  might  have 
hired  a  few  to  quiet  them,  but  h — ,  you  know,  I  won't  be 
driven  in  money  matters,"  muttered  Simon,  as  he  sat 
down  to  his  whisky  again. 

Simon's  fancied  security  was  a  dream,  for  these  men  did 
not  express  the  minds  and  will  of  the  majority.  The 
sword  of  Damocles  was  indeed  hanging  over  him.  These 
four  men  had  taken  a  wise  course,  and  the  only  one  which 
suggested  itself  as  the  most  feasible  plan.  It  was  strictly 
legal,  it  was  perfectly  fair,  and  had  it  been  carried  out  un- 
hindered by  the  after  actions  of  the  excitable  element 
found  in  all  communities,  would  have  brought  Simon 
Spud  to  terms,  without  disgracing  the  neighborhood. 


126  The  Opium  Den. 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE    OPIUM    DEX. 

IT  would  seem  as  though  Providence  intended,  concern- 
ing the  people  of  Yarbtown.  that  the  measure  of  their 
woes  should  be  filled. 

Scarcely  had  the  last  odors  of  carbolic  acid  been  dis- 
pelled, and  while  the  excitement  aroused  by  the  action  of 
Simon  Spud  was  still  at  high  tide,  a  new  matter  came  to 
light,  which  fanned  the  already  increasing  flame  into  a 
general  conflagration.  Troubles  are  gregarious.  They 
seldom  come  singly  and  alone.  They  are  energetic  pugi- 
lists. They  never  give  the  heaviest  blow  first,  but  feel 
around  a  man,  until  by  little  touches  of  the  fist  here  and 
there  they  detect  the  tender  spot,  then  they'  lay  out  their 
strength  in  one  tremendous,  crushing  blow. 

Yarbtown  is  not  an  individual,  but  then  troubles  treat 
communities  the  same  collectively  as  individually.  A  fam- 
ine in  the  land  is  usually  accompanied  by  great  gales, 
drouths,  disasters  and  grief  of  various  kinds.  The  first 
complaint  which  drew  the  attention  of  the  people  of  Yarb- 
town once  more  to  Chinatown  came  from  the  school- 
master. The  boys  and  girls  had  been  of  late  uncommonly 
drowsy  and  stupid  in  school.  The  same  enervation  had 
been  noticed  at  home,  but  was  little  thought  of,  or  attrib- 
uted to  some  simple  ailment. 

The  master,  however,  was  surprised  to  find  numbers  of 


The  Opium  Den.  127 

his  scholars  in  the  same  condition.  He  quietly  called 
upon  Dr.  Gratiot  and  consulted  him  as  to  the  possible 
cause.  There  seemed  to  be  no  epidemic  prevailing,  and 
if  there  were,  the  symptoms  were  not  those  of  any  disease 
known  to  the  worthy  doctor.  The  physiciap  was  puzzled ; 
he  saw  no  way  to  get  at  the  difficulty  without  watching  and 
waiting.  The  scholars,  each  and  all,  denied  their  sickness, . 
though  the  signs  of  their  illness  were  evident  to  the  keen 
eye  of  the  doctor. 

One  of  the  boys  of  the  school  was  an  especial  favorite 
with  Dr.  Gratiot,  and  to  him  the  physician  applied  for  as- 
sistance. The  lad  knew  nothing  as  to  the  cause  of  the 
sickness  of  his  playmates,  but  he  promised  to  watch  and 
report.  His  report  came  soon,  indeed,  and  its  substance 
led  the  doctor  to  enlist  the  services  of  Rev.  Mr.  Smudgins 
one  evening,  and  the  twain  proceeded  to  Chinatown. 

Along  the  sidewalk  they  felt  their  way  in  the  dark,  peer- 
ing into  the  little  windows  of  the  Chinese  houses,  until 
they  paused  in  front  of  one  with  a  dim  Chinese  lantern 
hanging  over  the  door.  Dr.  Gratiot  stole  up  to  the  win- 
dosv  and  peeked  in. 

"Do  you  see  anything?"  whispered  the  minister. 

"Phew,  no;  the  atmosphere  is  blue  with  smoke;  but 
come  here  yourself,  Smudgins,  and  look  in." 

The  parson  crept  up  alongside  the  doctor  and  pressed 
his  face  close  to  the  dirty  window-pane.  It  was  a  small 
room  into  which  they  looked,  resembling  the  forecastle  of  a 


128  The  Opium  Den. 

merchant  vessel.  Rows  of  bunks  lined  two  sides.  One 
large  one  ran  along  under  the  little  ones  on  one  side. 
Several  Chinamen  were  lying  in  the  little  bunks,  while 
through  the  floating  clouds  of  smoke,  upon  the  wide  one, 
the  two  professionals  discovered  a  group  of  dim  figures, 
not  very  artistically  arranged,  either  as  regards  sex  or  age. 

"See  that,  Smudgins,  do  you?  I  fancy  that  room  will 
reveal  secrets  that  ought  by  good  rights  to  be  ours.  Let's 
go  in." 

"Ah,  do  you  think — would  it  be  just  prudent  ? "  inquired 
the  minister,  anxiously. 

"Prudent!  Why,  man,  don't  you  see  that  those  over 
there  are  not  Chinamen  ?  Indeed,  unless  my  eyes  deceive 
me,  they  are  children." 

"Is  it  possible?  The  youth  of  our  town  inveigled 
into  such  a  den!  What  is  this?  Is  it  a  saloon  ?"  asked 
the  minister. 

"Worse  than  that,  worse  than  that!  Come  in  and  we 
will  see  what  it  is." 

Opening  the  door,  the  two  men  walked  in. 

"  What  a  smell ! "  ciied  the  parson;  "  what  in  the  world 
is  this  hole,  doctor  ? " 

Just  then  two  Chinamen  came  forward  to  see  what  they 
wanted. 

"  How  now,  Chow,"  cried  the  doctor,  "  whom  have  you 
here  ? "  - 

He  was  walking  toward  the  shadows  seen  through  the 


THE   PROFESSIONALVlSlT. 


The  Opium  Den.  129 

smoke,  when  Chow  hurriedly  stepped  between  him  and 
the  group. 

"  No,  no !  You  no  wakee  up.  Lot  Chinamen,  all  sleepee. 
Heapee  mad  you  go  there." 

"Get  out!"  shouted  the  doctor,  shaking  his  fist  at  Chow. 
"  Do  you  call  them  Chinamen  ?  Not  much  you  don't." 

He  walked  on  as  he  spoke,  shoving  Chow  out  of  the 
way. 

"Great  mercy!"  cried  the  minister,  as  his  eyes  became 
more  accustomed  to  the  dingy  darkness. 

"  There,"  said  the  doctor,  pointing  to  the  scene  before 
them,  "  that's  what's  the  matter  with  the  children." 

The  two  professionals  stood  in  silence  and  looked  at  the 
sleeping  group.  There,  scattered  promiscuously  on  the 
wide  couch,  with  heads  and  feet  intermingling,  were  young 
men,  boys,  and  even  girls,  with  also  one  or  two  aged  men. 
They  were  lying  in  a  stupid  intoxication,  disheveled  and 
in  disorder. 

"  What  does  it  mean  ? "  asked  the  astonished,  con- 
founded minister. 

"Opium!"  said  Dr.  Gratiot,  with  astern  look  in  his 
face.  He  turned  and  seized  Ah  Chow  by  the  throat,  shov- 
ing him  along  until  he  held  his  head  over  the  bench.  "  Is 
this  your  work  ?  What  have  you  been  giving  them  ? 
Opium  ? 

"Yeah;  all  smokee  opium." 

"  Scoundrel !"  shouted  the  irate  physician.  "  Do  you 
know  what  I  can  do  to  you  for  this  ?" 


130  The  Opium  Den. 

"  Me  no  care,"  said  the  Chinaman,  doggedly,  "  payee 
me — all  light,  I  gim  opium,  they  smokee — who  care !" 

"  How  many  times  have  they  been  here  in  this  fix  ?" 

"  Oh,  lot  time." 

"  Do  they  stay  all  night  ? "  asked  the  parson. 

"  Oh,  no;  bym  by  all  wakee  up,  then  go  home." 

The  doctor  tightened  his  grasp  on  the  throat  of  Chow  a 
moment,  as  though  he  deliberated  about  strangling  him 
on  the  spot,  but  after  a  moment's  reflection  he  let  him 
go.  There  were  the  sons  of  respectable  citizens  all  stupified 
by  the  fumes  of  opium. 

"  No  wonder  they  are  dull  and  stupid  in  school,"  said 
the  doctor. 

On  a  table  in  one  corner  lay  an  assortment  of  pipes  for 
opium  and  tobacco,  some  lamps  and  confections.  Mr. 
Smudgins  took  up  one  of  the  pipes  and  examined  it. 
The  stem  was  about  eighteen  inches  in  length  and  one 
inch  in  diameter.  The  bowl  was  a  broad,  flat  piece  of 
hard  wood,  two  to  three  inches  across  the  top,  and  per- 
forated with  a  single  hole  in  the  center.  A  little  pill  as 
large  as  a  pea  is  placed  on  a  needle,  and  the  needle  thrust 
into  the  hole  on  the  bowl.  A  small  lamp  is  used  to  ignite 
the  opium,  it  being  a  difficult  thing  to  fire.  This  lamp  is 
applied  continually  until  the  requisite  number  of  whiffs 
have  been  inhaled. 

Rude  benches  are  supplied,  upon  which  the  smokers 
recline  during  the  fumigation,  and  upon  which  they  remain 


The  Opium  Den.  131 

undisturbed  until  the  unnatural  stupor  shall  have  exhausted 
itself.  All  the  votaries  in  the  den  which  the  doctor  and 
minister  visited  were  at  that  time  so  stupified  as  to  be 
utterly  unconscious  of  their  presence. 

"  Doctor,  this  is  horrible,"  said  the  parson,  putting  up 
his  hands  as  if  to  shut  out  the  dreadful  sight. 

"Horrible!  That  is  no  word  for  it,  Smudgins,  its  dam- 
nable !  Between  you  and  me,  I  am  almost  afraid  to  tell 
the  people  of  this.  What  will  they  do  ?  Such  a  thing  as 
this  is  not  to  be  borne  with,  though;  I  must  tell." 

"  Tell  1  Of  course  you  will  tell.  We  owe  a  duty  to  our 
fellow-citizens  to  see  that  this  is  carried  on  no  longer," 

"lam  so  in  the  habit  of  keeping  secrets,  professional 
secrets  you  know,  that  I  was  on  the  point  of  considering 
this  one,"  said  Gratiot. 

"  Here,"  he  continued,  "I  don't  know  but  what  I  ought 
to  tell  you  something  else  which  has  a  bearing  upon  this 
matter." 

Mr.  Smudgins  opened  his  eyes  at  this,  and  intimated 
his  willingness  to  hear  all  which  might  with  propriety  be 
told  him. 

"  Well,"  said  Dr.  Gratiot,"  it  is  strange  our  people  are 
so  blind  to  the  moral  influence  of  these  conscienceless 
heathen,  upon  the  young  of  our  growing  State.  You  are 
in  the  habit  of  preaching,  Smudgins,  I  am  not;  but  if 
I  had  your  power  I  could  tell  them  some  things  which 
would  pull  their  eyes  wide  open.  Immorality,  you  know, 


132  The  Opium  Den. 

is  supposed  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  the  very  young — 
children  I  mean.  It  costs  something  in  our  older  States 
to  be  immoral,  and  only  men  can  afford  to  undermine 
their  constitutions  by  base  courses  of  life;  but  do  you 
know  that  these  Chinese  have  done  something  besides 
cheapen  labor;  they  have  cheapened  immorality;  brought 
its  evils  within  reach  of  the  merest  child.  Among  our  out- 
casts of  the  while  race  there  is  a  species  of  honor;  they 
shudder  at  the  thought  of  dragging  a  pure  child  down  to 
their  level,  and  the  easiest  way  to  reach  their  better  nature 
is  through  a  child.  No  such  honor  is  found  among  the 
Chinese.  All  is  fish  which  comes  to  their  net.  The 
moral  principles  of  our  whole  State  will  be  undermined. 
Gad,  they  are  undermined,  and  our  children  to-day  know 
more  evil,  are  more  familiar  with  immoral  sin  than  you 
and  I — pardon,  parson,  I  will  speak  only  of  myself,  more 
than  I  did  at  thirty.  This  town  is  no  exception.  I  am 
under  promise  at  present  not  to  speak  further;  indeed  I 
never  will  but  to  the  parents  who  have  a  right  to  know 
what  I  know  about  some  of  their  children,  and  so  help  me 
Aladdin's  genii,  shall  know!" 

The  two  men  had  left  the  opium  den  while  talking,  and 
were  now  on  their  way  home.  It  will  not  serve  us  any 
purpose  to  follow  either  of  them.  The  information  which 
we  have  obtained  by  peeping  over  their  shoulders  is  suf- 
ficient. Any  one  who  has  lived  in  California  with  his  eyes 
and  ears- open  will  accept  the  doctor's  statement  as  a 


The  Opium  Den.  133 

fair  one  of  facts.'  It  is  as  though  the  devil  who  hitherto 
has  held  his  fair  price  for  his  wares,  had  suddenly  adopted 
the  plan  of  scattering  them  broadcast  with  a  free  hand. 

It  is  not  satisfactory  to  reply,  as  some  have,  that  we  have  an 
immorality  of  our  own  and  therefore  have  no  right  to  criti- 
cise that  of  the  Chinese.  Our  immorality  is  out  of  reach 
of  the  young;  theirs  is  of  a  different  stamp,  cheap — easily 
indulged  in  and  unhedged  by  any  remains  of  honor  and 
conscientious  scruples.  Ours  is  hidden  in  gilded  temples 
at  whose  doors  one  must  knock  and  pay  to  enter;  theirs  is 
an  open  pool  of  filth  in  whose  putrid  waters  the  child  may 
dabble  his  feet. 

Parson  Smudgins  made  no  secret  of  what  he  had  seen  and 
heard,  but  retailed  it  as  he  should  have  done  freely  among 
his  friends  and  parishioners,  who  in  turn  were  filled  with  in- 
dignation and  horror. 


\ 


134  Olla  Podri^a. 

CHAPTER  XXIV 

OLLA    PODRIDA. 

YARBTO\VN  was  a  scene  of  confusion  and  excitement  on 
the  day  following1  the  discovery  in  the  opium  den.  People 
who  were  ordinarily  quiet  and  even-tempered,  were  gath- 
ered in  groups  on  the  street  corners,  discussing  earnestly 
and  vehemently  the  event. 

That  portion  of  the  community  who  were  ever  on  the 
alert  for  excitement,  together  with  the  hoodlums,  recom- 
mended the  taking  of  extreme  and  violent  measures.  Men, 
whose  lives  were  several  removes  from  rectitude  and 
morality,  were  astounded  at  the  abyss  which  opened  be- 
neath the  feet  of  their  own  children.  Christians  who  had 
hoped  great  things,  expected  great  things  of  the  Chinamen, 
stood  aghast  to  think  of  the  great  evil  which  seemed  to 
stand  forth  as  a  giant,  as  compared  with  the  little  good 
they  had  accomplished.  Mothers,  who  would  faint  at  the 
sight  of  blood,  and  who  would  plead  like  a  Pocahontas  for 
a  condemned  man,  were  loud  in  their  execrations  of  the 
Celestials,  and  in  their  demands  for  justice.  Justice !  What 
justice  can  reach  men  whose  tongues  are  oily  with  lies, 
whose  consciences  can  be  seen  through  a  needle's  eye, 
and  who  have  no  fear  of  punishment  or  even  death.  Yarb- 
town  was  determined  to  do  something.  Wise  counsels 
prevailed  for  the  present  to  stay  the  course  of  immediate 
retaliation. 


Olla  Podrida.  135 

An  indignation  meeting  was  announced  for  the  even- 
ing. The  town  hall  was  filled  to  overflowing.  All  Yarb- 
town  turned  out;  all  except  the  Chinamen.  It  was  with 
difficulty  that  the  gathering  was  handled.  Noise  and  con- 
fusion prevailed,  and  dire  threats  were  made  of  what  ought 
to  and  should  be  done  very  soon. 

A  strong  party  of  the  men  whose  employment  had  been 
taken  from  them  when  the  Chinese  were  set  at  work  by 
Simon  Spud,  was  there  ready  for  anything  which  should 
give  them  a  chance  to  revenge  themselves.  A  great  many 
speeches  were  made,  some  cool,  calm  and  deliberate; 
others  hot,  earnest  and  incendiary. 

Dr.  Gratiot  addressed  the  meeting  in  a  judicious  man- 
ner, telling  of  what  he  saw,  and  hinted  at  what  he  knew, 
but  counseled  moderation  and  an  appeal  to  the  law.  Rev. 
Mr.  Smudgins  also  took  a  similar  course;  but  the  head- 
long, blundering,  bloodthirsty  class  seemed  to  be  in  the 
ascendency,  and  several  rash,  heedless  speeches  were  made 
by  them. 

Solomon  Williams,  a  hard-working  man,  who  had  lost 
his  employment  through  the  insidious  development  of  the 
cheap  labor  system,  heated  and  fired  the  assembly  by  an 
impetuous  speech,  in  which  he  hinted  at  immediate  re- 
venge upon  the  interloping  heathen,  as  the  best  method  to 
settle  the  difficulty.  This  kind  of  talk  seemed  to  please 
the  people,  for  they  cheered  him  vociferously.  They 
seemed  in  their  excitement  to  have  forgotten  that  this 


136  Olla  Podrida. 

method  would  in  justice  bring  down  upon  themselves  the 
weight  of  the  strong  arm  of  the  law. 

In  the  midst  of  the  excitement  a  man  leaped  upon  the 
stage  and  commenced  speaking.  His  face  was  pale  and 
thin,  and  covered  with  a  full  growth  of  beard.  At  first  he 
was  taken  for  a  stranger;  but  a  few  words  from  his  lips 
told  the  assembly  that  the  wanderer,  Job  Stearns,  had  re- 
turned. He  had  come  into  the  town  that  evening,  and 
seeing  the  lighted  hall,  went  in. 

The  speech  of  Sol.  Williams  had  so  worked  upon  his 
conscienciousness,  that  before  he  was  aware  what  he  was 
doing,  he  was  on  the  platform  commencing  a  speech  him- 
self. 

"  Fellow  townsmen:  I  am  not  a  public  speaker,  I  make 
no  pretensions  to  eloquence;  but  I  feel  impressed  with  the 
full  import  of  any  measure  you  may  adopt  here  to-night. 
There  is  no  need  of  striving  to  see  who  can  arouse  the 
most  excitement;  let  us  rather  try  and  see  who  can  pre- 
sent his  thoughts  in  the  calmest  manner.  I  have  suffered 
as  much  as  most  of  you,  and  am  entitled  to  a  hearing. 
Shall  I  go  on  ? " 

"Go  ahead,  Job!" 

"  Let  'em  have  it,  Stearns ! " 

"Pitch  in!"  shouted  the  crowd. 

"  Well,  I  wish,"  continued  Job,  "  to  present  a  fair  state- 
ment of  our  situation.  What  are  we  here  for  to-night  ? 
To  see  how  we  can  best  escape  from  a  net  which  we  have 
in  a  measure  spread  for  our  own  feet." 


Otta  Podrida. 


137 


"  No,  no,  Job;  that  won't  do,"  shouted  a  man  from  the 
crowd. 

"Why  not?"  said  Job;  "we  want  the  truth.  Our 
country  opened  her  doors  freely  for  the  coming  of 
the  Chinese.  Thousands  came,  and  still  the  jiren  of 
capital  spread  out  her  arms  and  cried  for  more.  Like 
a  creek  they  have  come  down  our  hillsides,  widening 
and  deepening  the  channel  for  more  to  follow.  They 
have  covered  our  fair,  verdant  plains  with  the  mud  and 
tailings  of  depravity.  Have  we  ever,  as  a  nation,  taken 
any  reasonable,  wise  course  to  prevent  them  ?  No !  Pro- 
testations have  been  made  by  you  and  me,  and  others  like 
us  in  opinion,  but  the  country  whose  laws  we  abide  by  has 
encouraged  their  coming.  The  dwellers  of  the  East  smile 
at  our  urgent  requests  for  some  restrictive  laws.  Wait  un- 
til the  miasmatic  marsh  of  Chinese  corruption  shall  have 
spread  into  their  midst,  and  then  they  will  open  their  eyes 
a  trifle.  Selfish,  greedy  men,  whose  country  is  bounded 
by  the  circumference  of  a  twenty-dollar  gold  piece  have 
opposed  us.  Do  you  think  that  with  such  influences  to 
back  them,  our  puny  strength  can  avail  if  we  resort  to  vio- 
lence, to  force  ?  I  say,  no ! " 

"You  bet  'twill,"  cried  the  excited  men. 

"  There  is  a  wiser  course,"  continued  Job;  "when  we 
cannot  force  a  man  from  a  claim,  we  '  freeze  him  out.'  Let 
us  freeze  the  Chinese  out." 

"  How  ? "  asked  some  one  from  the  audience. 


138  Olla  Podrida. 

"  Don't  patronize  them;  don't  patronize  their  industries; 
don't  patronize  men  who  employ  them.  I  call  that  freez- 
ing them  out.  Let  us  encourage  all  firms  who  banish 
them  from  the  workshop  and  machines.  If  our  own  fac- 
tories use  our  produce  to  further  the  interests  of  this  class, 
let  us  combine  and  stop  their  supplies." 

"Jest  you  look  out,  Job  Steams,"  shouted  Simon  Spud 
from  the  crowd. 

"  Free  speech  is  my  born  right,"  replied  Job,  whereat 
^  the  audience  cheered  him  lustily.  "I  love  my  fellow  beings 
\  of  whatever  color,  but  I  love  my  country  more.  Where  I 
see  whole  blocks  which  once  were  the  habitations  of  citi- 
zens whose  future  was  their  country's,  given  over  to  a 
horde  of  miscreants  who  crowd  them  to  suffocation,  who 
breed  disease  and  contagion,  and  then  hide  its  results  that 
they  may  remain  unmolested  in  possession  of  the  field; 
when  I  behold  a  moral  whirlpool  created  by  them  which 
sucks  in  our  young  blood,  then  I  say  it  is  time  to  inter- 
fere. Either  we  sink  to  their  level  as  laborers,  or  they 
must  rise  to  ours.  The  latter  is  improbable  if  not  impos- 
sible. They  leave  their  stains  on  all  they  touch.  The 
pride  which  is  born  in  us  revolts  at  the  thought  of  doing 
work  which  has  once  been  given  over  to  them.  Let  them 
once  be  employed  to  run  the  cars  in  our  mines,  and  who 
among  our  miners  will  afterward  touch  that  work?  Folly, 
do  you  call-it  ?  Folly  let  it  be  then.  It  is  a  fact,  and  facts 
are  commonly  supposed  to  be  stubborn  things.  If  our 


Otta  Podrida. 


139 


workmen  will  not  do  such  work  after  it  has  been  contam- 
inated by  Chinese  hands,  let  them  starve  until  they  will; 
they  must  take  the  consequences  of  their  own  folly,  sneer- 
ingly  say  our  capitalists.  I  reply  that  we  cannot  expect 
the  mass  of  mankind  to  be  moved  by  the  reason  of  the  few; 
they  are  led  by  feeling.  We  must  treat  humanity  as 
we  find  it.  America  must  concede  something  to  the  feel- 
ings of  her  people,  her  common  people,  I  mean.  Is  it 
easier  to  remodel  the  American  workingman's  mind  than 
it  is  to  rid  ourselves  of  the  necessity  to  do  so  ?  Are  we  to 
destroy  his  native  pride  to  please  the  Chinese  ?  The  mus- 
cles, the  united  muscles  of  America's  workmen,  are  in 
their  strength  a  slumbering  volcano.  These  Chinese  feed 
the  rich  who  have  abundance,  and  starve  the  poor  out  of 
even  their  poverty." 

"  Burn  'em  out !" 

"  Cut  off  their  pigtails,"  shouted  the  crowd. 

"No!"  replied  Job;  "that  indeed  brings  us  down  to 
their  level.  I  have  no  sympathy  with  such  ideas  of  retri- 
bution. They  are  not  to  be  blamed.  It  is  back  of  them 
we  must  look  for  the  prime  cause  of  our  trouble.  Commit 
no  crime,  I  beg  of  you.  I  should  be  one  among  the  first 
to  resent  such  a  course  and  bring  the  perpetrators  to  jus- 
tice. Let  us  pursue  the  slower  but  more  certain  plan — 
appeal  and  continue  to  appeal  to  the  law-makers  of  our 
land.  Agitate  the  question  all  the  time;  never  let  up. 
Keep  the  question  always  before  the  nation.  Meanwhile 
freeze  them  out." 


I4O  Olla  Podrida. 

Job  quietly  left  the  platform  after  these  remarks,  and  took 
a  seat  in  the  audience.  Many  of  the  gathering  did  not 
fully  appreciate  Job's  logic,  but  they  admired  Job,  and 
when  he  moved  off  the  stage  three  rousing  cheers  were 
given  for  him.  There  were  many  mutterings  still  from 
the  rough,  unthinking  men  present,  but  the  greater  number 
thought  Job  had  taken  a  sensible  view  of  the  matter. 

Some  strong  resolutions  were  passed  and  a  general  com- 
mittee of  ways  and  means  appointed,  and  the  meeting 
adjourned.  As  the  people  passed  out,  Job  fell  in  with 
Sol.  Williams. 

"  Sol,  I  was  a  little  surprised  to  hear  a  man  of  your  calm- 
ness and  good  sense  advocate  such  measures  as  you  did  to- 
night." 

"Well,"  said  Sol,  "  has  not  the  question  been  before  the 
public  for  the  last  fifteen  years,  and  are  we  not  further  from 
a  solution  than  ever  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Job  in  an  uncertain  tone.  "  But  there  will  be 
organizations  yet — bands  of  earnest,  determined  men, 
pledged  and  sworn  to  employ  and  patronize  only  their 
brother  countrymen.  I  see  ahead  the  little  stream  of  op- 
position just  starting  from  its  source,  grown  into  a  mighty 
river — too  strong  to  be  resisted,  too  wide,  too  broad  to  be 
stayed  in  its  course.  I  see  my  own  beautiful  State,  tilled 
and  served  by  her  own  rightful  sons.  I  see  happy  homes 
and  plenty.  I  see  falling  from  the  clouds  of  tribulation 
showers  of  blessings  upon  California.  Aye,  even  now  I  be- 


Olla  Podnda.  141 

gin  to  feel  a  few  drops  on  my  face."  Job  paused  suddenly, 
the  moon  burst  forth  from  a  pile  of  black  clouds,  bathing 
him  in  light.  Sol.  Williams  saw  that  the  man  beside  him 
was  inspired  —  he  walked  reverently,  humbly,  feeling  a 
vast  gulf  between  them.  Suddenly  Job  turned,  and  with 
a  warmth  of  feeling  so  common  to  him,  burst  out: 

"Sol,  from  my  heart  I  pity  you,"  This  broke  Sol 
down.  They  were  just  then  passing  the  factory.  Sol 
caught  Job  by  the  shoulder  and  made  him  face  the  building. 

"  You  remember  how  I  worked  in  that  place,  Job 
Stearns,  under  the  old  deacon;  of  course  I  hadn't  the 
education,  and  couldn't  get  up  as  you  did,  but  I  came  out 
square  and  above  board,  every  year;  yes,  more  than 
square.  You  remember  the  year  I  was  married — you  was 
a  boy,  but  you  haven't  forgotten — well,  Jennie  and  I  made 
a  good  start.  We  had  a  little  nest-egg,  and  Jennie  had  so 
much  courage  and  was  so  smart  at  anything  she  put  her 
hand  to" — here  Sol  drew  his  coat-sleeve  across  his  eyes— 
"  when  the  boy  came,  we  both  just  put  our  shoulders  to 
the  wheel  and  worked,  God  knows  how  we  worked,  and 
hoped  and  prayed  for  that  boy.  Jennie  said — of  course  she 
was  proud,  poor  thing — but  she  said  that  he  should  have 
the  same  chance  as  the  deacon's  son;  and  just  a  little  after 
the  girl  came.  Of  course  then  it  was  uphill  work.  I 
suppose  we,  poor  people,  had  no  business,  but  somehow 
Jennie  would  have  the  children  dressed  well,  and  she 
would  send  them  to  the  best  school,  and  all  that.  Well, 


142  Olla  Podrida. 

she  was  shrewd,  and  we  saved  every  year  a  little  toward 
the  boy  and  college,  and  the  girl  and  a  piano.  Yes,  you 
laugh,  Job;  I  suppose  we'd  no  business  with  aspirations; 
we'd  never  had  any  chance  ourselves,  you  know.  Of 
course  it  was  foolish,  and  it  all  looks  ridiculous  to  me 
now.  Well,  you  know  the  rest;  we've  used  it  all  up,  and 
the  old  dresses  are  wearing  out,  and  the  flour  barrel  is 
getting  low.  Maybe  I  could  have  borne  it  better  if  Jennie 
hadn't  taken  it  so  hard.  She  fought  like  a  tiger  to  save 
that  money.  She  worked  herself  at  everything,  night  and 
day,  sewing  and  washing,  but  at  last  somehow  the  work 
didn't  come,  and  then  the  money  went  to  keep  the 
children  from  starving,  and  Jennie's  completely  broken 
down — " 

Here  Job  broke  in. 

"  Sol,  I  can't  stand  this.  God  pity  us  all,"  and  wring- 
ing his  hand,  he  darted  round  the  street  corner  and  left  Sol 
in  the  moonlight.  Job  made  a  bee-line  for  Bessie  Cald- 
well's.  There  was  sympathy,  rest,  sunshine  after  darkness. 
A  few  turns  more  and  the  house  would  be  reached.  His 
heart  was  beating  wildly,  when  plump  he  came  upon  Uncle 
Caleb  Green,  one  of  the  oracles  of  the  place. 

"  Well,  Job,  so  ye's  back,  are  ye,  but  a  little  too  late  in 
the  day,  I  reckun." 

"  What  now  ? "  replied  Job,  rather  crustily. 

"  Why,  Sime  Spud  has  jest  taken  a  seat  in  your  chair, 
cut  you  out  jest  the  slickest.  I  did  think  the  gal  had  more 


Olla  Podrida.  143 

strength  of  character,  but  them  shiners  of  his'n  are  kinder 
dazzling,  you  know." 

Job  was  turned  into  a  pillar  of  stone;  his  tongue  was 
paralyzed;  he  just  stood  and  stared  at  Caleb  Green  with 
eyes  that  were  incapable  of  moving  in  his  head. 

"  Now,  now,  old  boy,  don't  take  it  so  hard;  there's 
more  fish  in  the  pond,  you  know;"  and  Caleb  moved  off, 
a  little  conscience-stricken,  leaving  Job  frozen  into  ice  on 
the  street  corner. 


144  Bessie's  Confession. 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
BESSIE'S  CONFESSION. 

JOB  was  almost  a  broken  man  after  his  conversation 
with  Sol.  Williams  and  Caleb  Green.  He  avoided  Mrs. 
Caldwell's,  of  course,  striving  all  the  time  to  learn  to  hate 
Bessie.  "  Fine  girl,"  he  said,  "  to  follow  a  man  out  into  the 
rain  and  night,  and  then  to  take  advantage  of  his  absence 
to  go  over  to  the  enemy."  Poor  Bessie.  She  couldn't  hate 
Job,  try  as  she  might;  but  she  was  bitter  toward  him  and 
proud.  So  the  two  were  miserable;  but  fate  took  the  matter 
in  hand,  and  brought  them  face  to  face  on  the  street. 
Bessie  was  the  weaker  vessel,  and  she  yielded  first.  "  O 
Job!  "  The  little  red  under-lip  pouted  like  that  of  an  in- 
jured child,  and  the  big  blue  eyes  were  running  over  with 
tears.  Had  Bessie  been  as  false  as  she  was  fair,  the  plead- 
ing baby-face  would  have  been  too  much  for  Job.  Pride 
melted  like  ice  in  the  sun;  he  just  drew  the  little  white 
hand  through  his  arm,  and  walked  silently  by  her  side  out 
of  the  town,  under  the  shadow  of  the  great  hills  and  trees. 
Then  Job  open  his  lips  for  the  first  time.  "  Well,  Bessie." 
A.  stifled  sob  was  the  only  answer.  Job  was  driven  to  the 
wall,  and  he  burst  forth.  "O,  Bessie,  what  have  I  done; 
why  have  you  rejected  a  good  man's  love  for  the  money 
of  his  enemy  ? "  Then  it  all  flashed  over  Bessie.  Job 
had  reason. to  doubt  her,  so  they  sat  down  under  a  big 
pine  tree  and  talked  it  all  over.  Bessie  told  Job  with  sobs 


Bessie's  Confession.  145 

and  tears,  how  true  she  had  been  to  him,  that  she  had 
even  sacrificed  self-respect  for  his  sake.  Before  she  was 
half  through  her  story,  Job  stopped  her  mouth  with  kisses; 
winds  from  the  south  were  blowing  through  his  brown 
hair  once  more;  sunlight  danced  on  the  leaves;  the  sky 
had  the  blue  of  Italy.  His  manhood  had  returned  to  him; 
he  fairly  lifted  Bessie  in  his  arms,  and  would  have  carried 
her  like  a  fairy  queen,  so  light  she  seemed. 

Bessie  had  told  him  of  the  secrets  that  Simon  Spud  had 
revealed  to  her,  and  Job  felt  that  his  little  heroine  had 
furnished  and  equipped  him  with  arms  for  the  contest — a 
musket,  pistol  and  sword,  with  which  to  successfully  fight 
the  enemy.     Then  Bessie  impatiently  begged  Job  to  tell 
her  the  story  of  his  wanderings,  and  the  reason  of  his  long 
silence.     In  a  few  words  he  told  of  his  meeting  with  the 
strange  men  in  San  Francisco.    "And  then,"  said  he,  "Bes- 
sie, I  remembered  nothing  more  for  hours,  it  might  have 
been  days.     I  was  conscious  first  of  a  bursting  feeling  in 
my  head,  and  a  desire  for  air;  opening  my  eyes,  I  found 
myself  in  the  cabin  of  a  ship.     Then  it  flashed  across  my 
mind  that  I  had  been  'shanghaed,'  as  they  call  it.    I  knew 
by  the  motion  of  the  vessel  that  I  was  far  out  at  sea,  and 
with  this  thought  came  a  vision  of  you,  Bessie — the  whole 
past,  the  bitter  past,  rushed  over  me  like  a  flood;  I  grew 
desperate  with  thinking;  this  last  blow  was  too  heavy.     I 
would  end  all  my  troubles  now  and  forever;  a  long  quiet 
sleep  way  down  among  the  sea-weeds  a«d  corals  of  the 


146  Bessie's  Confession. 

blue  Pacific;  the  thought  was  balm.  I  turned  the  idea 
over  and  over  in  my  mind;  the  longer  I  meditated  upon 
it,  the  pleasanter  it  seemed;  I  even  planned  just  when  and 
how  I  should  commit  the  deed.  I  was  intoxicated  with 
the  thought,  when,  dear,  for  the  second  time  in  my  life,  I 
saw  a  ghost.  Now,  don't  start.  It  was  the  ghost  of  your- 
self, Bessie,  but  as  real  as  your  little  soft  hand  is  to  me 
now.  You  had  the  same  sheet  about  you  that  you  wore 
the  night  I  bade  you  good-bye,  and  your  face  was  swollen 
with  crying.  You  were  not  a  pale  ghost,  Bessie,  only  so 
sad  and  woe-begone  and  forsaken  like.  You  stayed  with 
me  but  a  moment,  but  you  electrified  me  like  a  shock 
from  a  galvanic  battery;  I  was  a  well,  strong  man  in  an 
instant.  Coward,  I  said  to  myself,  springing  to  my  feet, 
you  mean,  contemptible  coward,  you  are  unworthy  of  the 
girl.  Well,  darling,  I  was  the  shrewdest,  sharpest  man  on 
board  the  Clyde  after  that,  I  reckon.  I  just  worked  myself 
into  the  affections  and  good  graces  of  the  captain,  mates, 
sailors  and  cook.  I  worked,  sang,  told  stories,  smoked 
tobacco,  and  became  a  regular  salt" — here  Bessie  looked 
Job  all  over  with  curiosity.  "  There  was  one  fellow  on 
board,  Pete  Smith;  I  worked  into  that  chap's  sympathies 
somehow.  Well,  one  night,  when  we  were  off  the  Sand- 
wich Islands,  under  the  influence  of  a  good  smoke  and 
plenty  of  whisky,  he  told  me  all  about  my  capture,  and 
described  the  dandy  fellow  with  the  little  legs,  who  made 
the  bargain;  he  did  not  know  his  name,  he  said;  but  I  did, 


Bessie's  Confession.  147 

Bessie.  Well,  I  worked  on  after  that,  but  kept  dark  as  to 
my  intentions.  When  our  ship's  crew  put  out  from  port 
at  the  Sandwich  Islands,  I  was  among  the  missing.  You 
can  guess  the  rest.  I  worked  my  passage  back  to  San 
Francisco  on  a  returning  ship.  O,  Bessie,  did  you  wonder 
why  you  never  received  that  letter  I  promised  ? " 

Bessie's  lip  was  trembling  again.  "  The  worst  of  it  was, 
Job,  I  had  no  one  to  confide  in.  I  felt  that  you  were  true, 
and  had  some  good  reason  for  keeping  silent,  but  I  couldn't 
tell  mother,  and  God  seemed  to  have  forgotten  me;  per 
haps  it  was  because  I  was  a  wicked  girl  then;  I  was  play- 
ing hypocrite  with  Simon." 

"  Well,"  said  Job,  "  it  is  all  over  now,  darling.  So  let 
us  have  done  with  deception  forever." 


148  Simon  Has  His  Eyes  Opened. 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

SIMON  HAS  HIS  EYES  OPENED. 

SIMON  SPUD  must  have  been  blind  indeed  had  he  failed 
to  perceive  the  cordial  welcome  given  the  returned  wan- 
derer by  Miss  Bessie  Caldwell.  He  was  too  conceited  to 
imagine  at  first  that  he  had  been  supplanted  by  the  man 
who  had  been  so  disgraced.  Had  he  not  revealed  Job's 
character  to  her  in  the  clearest  manner  ?  It  could  not  be 
that  Job  suspected  him  of  being  the  originator  of  the 
scheme  for  his  forcible  shipment.  Job  had  returned  con- 
siderably sooner  than  he  had  expected ;  that  alarmed  him 
some.  Perhaps  the  mate  had  betrayed  him  to  Stearns. 
He  could  not  for  a  moment  think  that  Bessie,  after  such 
encouragement  as  she  had  given  him,  could  be  in  earnest 
in  her  friendly  greeting  of  Job.  Probably  she  had  some 
motive  in  thus  acting;  some  plan  for  assisting  him,  Simon, 
in  his  warfare  against  Job.  Anyway  he  would  call  upon 
her  and  ascertain;  so  one  evening  he  spruced  up  and 
called  at  the  house  of  the  widow.  Bessie  received  him 
alone  in  the  parlor.  Simon  was  nervous  and  vaulted  im- 
mediately upon  his  war-horse. 

"  Bessie,  do  you  think  it  fair  to  me,  for  you  to  receive 
calls  from  Job  Stearns  after  all  I  have  told  you  ?" 

There  was  a  dangerous  look  in  Bessie's  eyes,  as  she  re- 
plied, "And  why  not,  pray  ?" 

"  Ain't  it  settled  that  my  interests  are  your'n  ?     'Tain't 


Simon  Has  His  Eyes  Opened.  149 

for  my  interest  that  that  man's  name  should  again  be  as- 
sociated with  your'n.  Probably  you  have  some  plan  in 
view  which  you  think  will  assist  me  in  curbing  that  scoun- 
drel, and  thinking  so,  you  let  him  come  so  as  you  can 
work  his  plans  out  of  him;  but  it  won't  help  me  any, 
though  I'm  much  obliged." 

Bessie  had  tried  to  be  cool  and  collected,  but  her  nat- 
ural feelings  were  too  strong  for  her  and  she  showed  her 
hand  in  the  game  rather  sooner  than  she  intended. 

"I'd  like  to  know,  Simon  Spud,  how  long  your  interests 
have  been  mine  ?  I'd  like  to  know  how  long  since  I  gave 
you  a  right  to  dictate  to  me  ?"  she  cried,  with  flashing  eyes. 

"  Why,  since  you  accepted  my  offer,  of  course,"  said  the 
astonished  Simon. 

"  What  offer  have  I  accepted  ?"  screamed  Bessie. 

"  Didn't  you  promise  to  marry  me  ?"  asked  Simon. 

"  Marry  you  !  No — not  if  you  were  the  last  man  in  the 
world,  I  wouldn't !" 

"  You  promised  to,"  said  the  now  angry  Simon. 

"  I  didn't." 

"  You  implied  as  much.  Haven't  you  let  me  come  to 
see  you  ?  Haven't  you  listened  to  my  vows  and  offers,  and 
never  said  'no  ?'  " 

"Because  I  did  not  say  'no,'  that  does  not  imply  'yes'. 
Yes,  I  have  let  you  come  to  see  me,  and  I  have  listened  to 
your  vows  of  love,  but  I've  listened  to  something  else,  too. 
I've  heard  how  you  betrayed  poor  Job,  and  I've  encour- 


150  Simon  Has  His  Eyes  Opened. 

aged  you  on  so  that  I  would  fathom  your  mean,  contempt- 
ible spirit,  and  it  did  not  take  long  either,  it's  so  absurdly 
shallow.  I  know  you  now,  Simon  Spud." 

Simon  was  immeasurably  wrathy,  he  choked  and  turned 
alternately  red  and  white;  he  sprang  forward  toward  Bes- 
sie, screaming: 

"You  shall  marry  me  !  I  have  you  in  my  power.  I'll 
ruin  your  good  name;  I'll  sue  you  for  breach  of  promise, 
I'll " 

"That  will  do,  Simon,"  shouted  the  manly  voice  of  Job 
Stearns,  as  he  came  bounding  into  the  room.  "  You've 
said  enough.  You  can  commence  a  suit  for  breach  of 
promise  just  as  soon  as  you  please,  and  I  will  match  it  with 
two  suits;  one  for  having  me  shanghaed,  and  one  for  slan- 
der. Now,  sir,  with  Bessie's  permission,  I  will  show  you 
the  way  out." 

"  Do,  Job,  but  don't  hurt  him,"  said  Bessie. 

Simon  Spud  was  dumbfounded,  completely  at  his  wit's 
end ;  he  made  no  reply,  but  took  his  hat  mechanically  and 
walked  out. 

"  Wasn't  that  rich  ?"  said  Bessie,  laughing  hysterically; 
then  she  immediately  fell  to  crying  with  all  her  might. 

"  What  have  I  done  ?  How  I  have  lowered  myself ! 
But  I  did  do  it,  Job,  to  save  your  name.  I  never  meant  to 
go  so  far.  What  will  mamma  say,"  she  sobbed  ? 

"  She  will  say  her  little  daughter  did  just  right,"  said 
Job  gathering  her  into  his  arms,  and  cramming  his  hand- 
kerchief into  her  face. 


Simon  Has  His  Eyes  Opened.  151 

"  But,  Job,  if  he  should  sue  me  for  breach  of  p-r-o-m-i-s-e, 
just  think  of  the  publicity  of  it,"  she  sobbed,  with  a  smoth- 
ered voice  between  Job's  intermittent  hugs.  Job  laughed. 

"  The  puppy  !  No  lawyer  would  undertake  such  a  case, 
you  need  not  fear;  besides  he  knows  that  I  have  him  in  my 
power  now." 

Mrs.  Caldwell  did  say  her  daughter  had  acted  right, 
when  the  whole  story  of  Simon's  perfidy  was  told  her, 
though  she  could  have  wished  her  daughter  had  placed 
more  confidence  in  her. 

"  I  did  try  to,  ma,  but  you  would  not  listen  to  me,"  re- 
plied Bessie. 

Simon  was  in  a  bad  strait;  enemies  all  around  him,  his 
crimes  exposed,  and  the  prospect  before  him  of  an  oppo- 
sition to  his  business.  A  mean  man  is  always  conscious  of 
the  superiority  of  an  honest  one.  Simon  felt  his  inferiority 
to  Job  Stearns.  He  was  afraid  of  him.  He  knew  that  if 
Job  should  press  the  matter  in  the  courts,  he,  Simon,  would 
without  question  be  defeated.  Job  was  not  a  hard  man, 
but  he  felt  that  he  had  been  pushed  to  extremities;  he  did 
not  wish  to  revenge  himself  upon  Simon,  but  he  was  de- 
termined to  have  a  fair  settlement  of  the  matter,  right  him- 
self in  the  estimation  of  such  as  had  mistrusted  him,  and 
receive  fair  compensation  for  the  time  he  had  unjustly  lost 
by  Simon's  treachery  and  crime.  He  put  his  case  into  the 
hands  of  a  lawyer,  and  Simon  forthwith  received  a  letter 
asking  for  damages.  Simon  squirmed.  He  dare  not  con- 


152  Simon  Has  His  Eyes  Opened. 

suit  an  attorney;  he  was  too  cowardly  to  tell  honestly  all 
the  facts,  so  he  waited  and  continued  to  squirm.  He 
finally,  upon  receipt  of  another  letter  rather  more  peremp- 
tory in  its  demands,  called  upon  the  lawyer.  He  begged, 
threatened,  whined,  crawled,  apologised,  but  Job's  lawyer 
stood  his  ground  firmly.  At  last,  rather  than  to  have  the 
V  matter  ventilated  in  court,  Simon  compromised  with 
Job,  by  paying  over  to  the  attorney  the  sum  of  five  thou- 
sand dollars.  linearly  killed  him  with  vexation  to  squeeze 
out  of  his  pocket  so  much  to  his  enemy,  but  it  had  to  be 
done. 

Job  was  now  enabled,  by  means  of  the  failure  of  his 
enemy's  plans,  to  unite  his  means  with  those  of  the  four 
men  who  proposed  to  start  the  opposition  in  Yarbtown. 

The  buildings  were  already  in  process  of  erection,  and  Job 
was  chosen  superintendent.  Public  opinion  and  patronage 
favored  them,  and  Simon's  capital  was  insufficient  to 
combat  their  prosperity.  Job  was  now  on  the  road  to 
wealth.  One  of  the  stipulations  which  his  attorney  had 
made  in  the  settlement  with  Simon  Spud,  required  that  a 
public  statement  of  the  compromise  and  its  causes  should 
be  made  by  the  lawyer.  It  was  done,  and  Peggy  Sproul 
and  all  the  church  people  came  down  from  their  high 
horses  and  greeted  Job  with  friendliness. 


Fire!  Fire/  153 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

FIRE!  FIRE! 

A  MONTH  had  passed  since  the  indignation  meeting  in 
Yarbtown,  and  nothing  had  been  done  by  the  committee, 
beyond  making  some  mild  remonstrances  with  the  China- 
men. Great  heat  as  long  as  the  bellows  are  blowed,  and 
ashes  when  they  are  not. 

Nobody  wished  to  move  in  the  matter,  and  nobody  did. 
The  mass  of  the  people  had  suffered  their  ardor  to  cool 
off,  and  imagined — poor  mistaken  souls — that  the  scare 
had  been  sufficient  to  deter  the  Celestials  from  any  further 
open  digressions  from  the  moral  law;  but  "For  ways  that 
are  dark  and  tricks  that  are  vain,  the  heathen  Chinee  is 
peculiar." 

They  had  been  permitted  so  long  to  carry  on  their 
nefarious  business  without  serious  interference,  that  when 
the  wrath  of  the  people  had  apparently  spent  itself,  they 
smiled  quietly  at  each  other,  and  went  on  as  before,  doing 
as  they  pleased. 

There  were  some  others  in  Yarbtown  who,  sometimes, 
indulged  in  the  practice  of  doing  as  they  pleased  also. 
There  were  men  whose  wrath  rose  within  them  every  time 
they  saw  the  peaceful,  bland,  contented  face  of  John;  men-' 
who  instinctively  stooped  to  pick  up  a  stone  every  time 
one  of  these  industrious  heathen  passed  with  his  baskets 
teeming  with  clothes,  a  shovel  over  his  shoulder,  or  hurry- 


154  Fire!  Fire! 

ing  to  and  from  his  work  at  the  factory.  The  nonchalant^ 
self-satisfied  air  of  John,  his  mincing,  half-trotting,  half- 
shuffling  gait,  contrasted  with  their  own  miser}',  provoked 
them  to  efforts  to  bring  some  of  their  own  suffering  down 
L  upon  poor  John's  head.  They  stoned  them,  pestered  and 
N  bothered  them,  insulted  them  with  vile  language,  and  made 
the  streets  of  Yarbtown  a  perfect  hell  upon  earth  to  John 
Chinaman. 

All  this  finally  reached  a  climax,  fearful  and  grievous  to 
the  celestials.  It  was  China  New  Year.  The  heathen 
were  out  in  gala  costume. 

A  stranger  passing  through  the  town  might  have  imag- 
ined a  great  battle  in  progress.  The  atmosphere  was  filled 
with  the  smell  of  gunpowder,  and  the  noise  of  constant 
explosion  of  fire-crackers  was  distracting  to  the  sleepers  on 
Aristocracy  street.  A  procession  marched  and  counter- 
marched, clad  in  robes  and  fancy  dress,  and  bearing  aloft 
transparencies  and  banners.  In  the  various  houses  of  the 
Chinese,  some  were  prognosticating  their  future  from  the 
sweet  smelling  blossoms  and  stalks  of  the  narcissus;  others 
were  feasting  upon  sweetmeats,  condiments  and  preserved 
ginger,  and  still  others  were  staking  the  savings  of  months 
at  the  various  gaming  tables. 

"  Makee  big  noisee,  scarce  way  heap  debbils,"  said  one 
of  them  to  an  inquiring  white  man. 

There  were  some  devils,  however,  in  Yarbtown,  who 
were  not  so  easily  scared;  they  needed  an  application  of 


Fire!  Fire! 


155 


gunpowder  after  a  different  fashion  from  the  fire-crackers, 
to  accomplish  their  ejection.  While  John  was  at  work 
with  his  devils  in  front,  these  devils  were  at  work  in  the 
rear  of  Chinatown.  They  had  chosen  an  auspicious  time 
for  their  exploit.  Amid  the  noise,  confusion  and  smell, 
their  presence  was  not  perceived,  the  odor  of  kerosene  was 
not  noticed,  and  the  consequent  smoke  of  the  fire  was 
unheeded,  until  one-third  of  Chinatown  was  in  flames 
among  the  sheds  of  the  rear. 

John  Chinaman  is  noisy  and  demonstrative  in  his  fun; 
he  is  fearfully  so  in  his  grief.  Such  jabbering,  such  yell- 
ing, never  was  heard  in  Yarbtown.  They  fought,  stumbled 
over  each  other,  and  made  no  effort  to  stay  the  flames. 
Little  Chinese  women,  never  seen  by  the  eyes  of  civilized 
Yarbtown  before,  came  running  into  the  streets,  with 
minute  celestials  clinging  to  them.  The  penates  and 
Josh  were  brought  out  of  the  flames;  but  Chinatown  was 
doomed.  In  less  than  two  hours  it  was  for  the  most  part 
in  ashes. 

Job  Stearns  was  among  the  crowd  gathered  in  Chinatown, 
and  many  were  the  valuable  articles  he  saved  from  the 
flames.  He  came  nearer  to  swearing  that  night  than  ever 
before  in  his  life;  not  at  the  terrible  suffering  which  he 
witnessed,  but  at  the  reckless,  headstrong  causes  of  it. 

While  nearly  the  whole  population  was  gathered  in 
Chinatown,  the  cry  of  "Fire  !"  came  from  the  other  end 
of  the  village.  The  buildings  belonging  to  Simon  Spud 


156  Fire!  Fir  el 

were  in  flames.  Despite  their  hatred  of  Simon,  a  great 
many  made  efforts  to  save  the  stock  in  store;  but  the 
buildings  were  of  combustible  material  and  burned  so  rap- 
idly as  to  give  them  no  opportunity.  Simon  was  out  in  the 
crowd,  howling  and  dancing  about  like  a  madman.  His 
accounts,  books,  government  bonds  and  valuables  were  all 
in  the  office.  He  had  been  either  too  parsimonious  or  too 
careless  to  secure  a  good  safe,  and  they  were  therefore  pro- 
tected by  nothing  save  the  old  iron  box  used  by  his  father. 
It  was  worse  than  nothing  so  far  as  fire  was  concerned. 

"  O,  do  somebody  go  up  and  get  my  iron  box  in  the 
office,"  he  cried  to  the  men  about  him. 

"  Go  yourself,  Sime,  you  know  where  it  is,"  they  re- 
plied, jeeringly.- 

"  One  hundred  dollars  to  the  man  who  will  save  it  for 
me,"  cried  Simon,  again. 

"  Be  all  your  bonds,  papers  and  books  in  that  thar 
office,  Simon  ?  All  ? "  asked  one  man,  peering  into  his 
face. 

"  Yes,  yes,  all  of  them.  Do  go  up  and  get  them,"  an- 
swered Simon,  nervously. 

"  Be  you  sure  you  haven't  saved  some  of  your  bonds 
out  ? "  asked  the  man  again. 

"  No,  no,  they  are  all  there.     I  must  save  them." 

"  Then,  by ,  I'll  put  a  head  on  the  first  man  who 

goes  up  to  get  them.  You  bet  I  mean  it  too,  fellows. 
Don't  none  o'  you  uns  try  me,"  shouted  the  man  who  had 


Fire!  Fire!  157 

interrogated  him.  "You've  had  your  play,  Sime,  and 
now  we'll  cry  quits." 

Job  Stearns  was  standing  close  by  in  the  crowd  which 
had  gathered,  and  he  overheard  Simon's  lament,  and 
started  immediately  for  the  building.  He  darted  into  the 
hall,  and  finding  the  smoke  stifling,  he  seized  a  potato 
sack,  pulled  it  over  his  head,  and  rushed  up  stairs.  With 
one  kick  from  his  muscular  legs,  he  burst  in  the  door  of 
the  office.  He  found  the  box.  It  was  locked.  He  felt 
the  floor  giving  way  under  him,  so  he  bent  all  his  energy, 
balanced  the  box  on  the  sill  of  the  window,  and  dropped 
it  out. 

It  fell  upon  the  ground  beneath.  Simon  Spud  saw  it, 
and  in  a  moment  had  the  papers  and  books  in  his  posses- 
sion. Job  started  to  go  back,  but  the  stairs  had  fallen  in. 
He  must  follow  the  strong  box.  He  felt  his  way  to  the 
window  and  looked  out.  It  was  twenty  feet  to  the  ground. 
He  looked  once  more  down  into  the  raging,  red,  glowing 
furnace  where  the  stairs  had  been,  and  then  swung  himself 
out  on  the  window-sill.  For  one  moment  he  glanced 
down  into  the  darkness,  then  shut  his  eyes  and  dropped. 

The  crowd  rushed  forward.  Job  lay  senseless  under 
the  window. 

"  All  for  that  confounded  rascal! " 

"I  said  I'd  put  a  head  on  to  any  man  who  went  up; 
but  dogon  me  if  I  thought  'twould  be  Job  Stearns." 

"  What  the  did  he  go  up  for,  I'd  like  to  know  ? 


158  Fire  I   Fire! 

I'd  have  seen  the  whole  shebang  to  blazes  before  I  would 
risk  my  life  for  the  skunk  who  had  treated  me  as  he  has 
Stearns." 

Such  were  the  comments  of  the  men,  as  they  lifted  Job 
up  and  placed  him  on  an  unhinged  door. 

"  Whar's  Sime  ? "  asked  one.  "  Why  don't  the  pup 
come  and  see  what's  the  matter  ?  " 

But  Simon  was  off  to  his  room  to  put  his  valuables  in 
safe  lodgment. 

While  these  events  were  transpiring,  poor  Peggy  Sproul 
was  in  an  agony  of  fear.  She  had  been  all  the  afternoon, 
while  Chinatown  scared  away  its  devils,  alternately  reading 
of  Elijah  and  the  Priests  of  Baal,  and  looking  out  her 
window  to  see  the  abominations  of  the  heathen;  and  now, 
while  the  whole  town  was  lighted  up  with  fire,  the  poor, 
lone  woman  knew  not  what  to  do.  She  ran  back  and 
forth  between  her  neighbor's  houses,  trying  in  vain  to  find 
some  one  to  condole  with;  they  were  gone  to  see  the 
display. 

"Oh-ooh-ah!"  she  cried,  wringing  her  hands  in  agony, 
"  my  house  will  go,  an'  I  shall  be  a  lone  an'  humless 
woman.  Oh,  why  don't  somebody  come  an'  help  me!  I 
must  git  my  things  out'n  thar  ter  onct." 

Peggy  run  into  the  house  again,  and  bustled  excitedly 
about,  but  where  to  begin,  she  knew  not.  Looking  around, 
she  saw  the  end  of  the  rag-bag  sticking  out  of  the  open 
closet. 


Fir  el  Fir  el 


'59 


"  Oh,  my  rags;  all  of  them  is  wooling  things  I'd  a  saved 
to  make  inter  rugs." 

She  bundled  the  rag-bag  out  of  the  front  door,  and 
rushed  back  again. 

"  Thar's  my  fiat-irons !" 

Out  they  went  after  the  rags. 

"An'  thar's  my  books;  I  never  could  kerplace  them 
agin.  I  must  save  'em."  • 

She  did  the  books  up  in  a  paper,  a  copy  of  Fox's  Book 
of  Martyrs,  Baxter,  Life  of  Washington,  and  the  good 
Book,  and  set  them  on  the  gate-post. 

"  An'  thar's  my  presarve  tins;  they  cost  me  three  dollars; 
they  must  go.  Oh,  dearee  me !  why  was  I  left  all  alone 
ter  see  everything  burned  teetotally  down  right  under  my 
nose.  An'  thar's  my  ironing-board,  an'  the  pictur  of  the 
Lord's  Supper." 

She  put  them  all  out  into  the  street,  and  rushed  in  again. 
Peggy  had  her  savings  all  put  into  a  stocking,  and  the 
stocking  hid  in  the  mattress;  she  also  had  some  silverware; 
but  in  her  excitement,  the  memory  of  them  faded  from 
her  mind.  She  seized  the  rolling-pin,  nutmeg-grater  and 
pie-pans,  and  threw  them  out  of  the  window. 

"  Them  ar  winder  curlings;  I  paid  two  bits  a  yard  fer 
'em,  six  uv  'em;  hum,  one  dollar'n'arf.  I  must  save  'em; 
they'll  go  like  tinder." 

She  rolled  them  up  and  laid  them  carefully  on  the 
sidewalk.  As  she  looked  up,  she  saw  the  flames  on  the 
other  side  of  her  house,  but  across  the  town. 


160  Fire!  Fire! 

"  Oh,  thar's  tother  side !  I  must  git  back  inter  the  bed- 
room 'fore  it  gits  a  holt  thar." 

She  hastened  through  the  house  and  pushed  open  the 
bedroom  door.  The  first  thing  she  saw  was  her  night-cap 
sticking  out  from  under  the  pillow. 

"  That  ar  ez  raal  lace.  Oh,  when  shall  I  ever  sleep  in 
peace  agin  with  it  on  ?" 

She  took  it  out,  and  to  keep  it  out  of  the  dirt,  put  it  on 
the  unoccupied  gate-post.  Two  China  vases,  the  looking- 
glass,  comb  and  hair-brush,  went  out  to  get  an  airing  next. 
About  this  time  the  neighbors  began  to  come  home.  As 
they  came  up  toward  Peggy's  with  their  lanterns,  one  of 
them  spied  what  he  thought  was  a  figure  with  a  night- 
cap on. 

"  I  declare  if  there  isn't  Peggy  Sproul  with  her  cap  on." 

Just  then  his  foot  caught  in  a  flat-iron,  and  he  sprawled 
out  on  the  rag-bag. 

"  What  under  the — " 

"  It's  only — "  began  another,  as  he  executed  a  graceful 
bow  on  the  ironing-board,  and  put  his  elbow  through  the 
looking-glass,  while  the  hair-brush  dug  into  his  ear.  They 
both  got  up,  and  swung  their  lanterns  around  to  discover 
the  cause  of  their  downfall. 

"Whew!  who's  been  robbing  Peggy?" 

Just  then  Peggy  herself  came  out  with  an  armful  of 
stove-pipe. 

"  What  in  the  world  are  you  doing,  Peggy  Sproul  ? " 
asked  one  of  the  men. 


Fire!  Fire!  161 

"Yes,  you  come  back  when  thar's  no  more  to  be  did, 
an'  ask  a  poor  woman  what  she's  a  doin'  uv  when  she's 
emptied  her  whole  house  alone  ter  save  it." 

"  I  should  say  you  had.  Have  you  brought  out  your 
toothpicks  yet  ?  Why,  what  are  you  pulling  all  this  rub- 
bish out  here  for  ?  " 

"Rubbish!  I'd  hev  you  know  them  things  is  valable;  I 
don't  want  'em  burned." 

"Who's  going  to  burn  them  ?  "  asked  one  of  the  neigh- 
bors. 

"Why,"  said  Peggy,  "don't  you  see  the  fire  all  around 
us?" 

"  I  want  to  know  if  it  is  because  you  were  afraid  of  being 
burned  out,  that  you  packed  all  this  stuff  out?" 

"  Sartin' ;  uv  course,"  said  Peggy. 

"  Well,  you'd  better  pack  'em  straight  in  again  before  the 
rest  of  them  get  smashed." 

"  Smashed !    Thar  aint  none  uv  'em  smashed." 

"  Well,  I  guess  you'll  find  your  looking-glass  a  goner;  I 
smashed  that." 

"My  lookin'-glass  broken!  My  lookin'-glass ! "  cried 
Peggy,  lifting  her  hands  in  horror;  "then  I  shall  die.  Oh, 
dearee,  dearee."  Peggy  sat  down  on  the  rag-bag  and 
rocked  to  and  fro.  "Ter  hev  a  lookin'-glass  smashed 
vhen  thar's  a  fire  in  town.  Oh,  I  know  I  shall  die.  I 
never  broke  one  'thout — 'thout — well,  some  one  a  dyin'." 

"  There,  there,  Peggy,  if  any  one  dies  for  it,  it  will  be  I, 
for  I  smashed  it,"  said  her  neighbor,  soothingly. 


1  62  Fire  I  Fire/ 

"  Well,  the  Lud's  will  be  done,"  said  Peggy,  rising  re- 
signedly to  meet  her  fate. 

"  Now,  you  don't  think  the  Lord  descends  to  such  petty 
signs  as  that,  do  you,  Peggy  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don'  know,  I  don'  know;  thar's  no  fathoming 
o'  his  ways/' 

"  Well,  Peggy,  I'm  a  Christian,  I  hope,  and  if  that's  a 
sign  of  my  death,  I'm  ready;  but  let's  put  these  things  in 
before  the  rest  of  the  town  is  doomed  to  die." 

"  Ain't  thar  no  danger,  now,  raally  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not;  don't  you  see  it's  all  at  the  other  side  of 
the  town  ?  " 

"  Well,  well,  I  hev  the  consolation  of  hevin'  done  all  I 
could." 

The  three  went  to  work  immediately  to  undo  all  that 
Peggy  had  done. 


Job  was  carried  to  the  hotel,  and  Dr.  Gratiot  called  in. 
He  found  one  leg  broken  below  the  knee,  but  no  bruises 
or  wounds  of  a  serious  character.  People  wondered  if 
Simon  Spud  would  do  anything  to  repay  Job  for  his  suffer- 
ing in  his  cause;  but  he  did  nothing  beyond  sending  him 
a  check  for  the  hundred  dollars  promised,  which  Job 
quietly  returned  to  him.  Those  who  knew  the  mean, 
petty  nature  of  Simon  Spud,  did  not  wonder  much  at  his 
lack  of  gratitude. 


The  Wedding.  163 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE    WEDDING. 

I  AM  aware  that  there  is  no  more  old-fashioned  method 
of  disposing  of  heroes  and  heroines  who  have  served  the 
purposes  for  which  they  were  introduced,  than  to  marry 
them  off ;  I  do  not  wish,  however,  to  present  so  much  of 
the  shadow  in  the  life  of  Job  or  Bessie,  without  adding  a 
little  of  the  sunshine. 

Of  course  it  might  safely  be  left  to  the  imagination  of 
the  reader  to  picture  the  wedding,  the  cottage  and  the 
triumph  of  these  much-abused  characters  of  my  story,  but  I 
prefer  to  be  a  little  old-fashioned,  and  tell  it  myself. 
There  was  no  chime  in  the  steeple  of  the  Presbyterian 
church,  but  the  "  mellow  wedding-bells  "  were  ringing  in 
Job's  heart  all  the  while. 

He  swung  his  arms  six  inches  further,  and  stepped  more 
firmly  than  ever  before.  He  was  a  proud  man.  There 
was  no  rejoicing  over  the  moral  defeat  of  his  enemies;  no 
chuckling  over  the  discomfiture  of  Sime;  no  unkind,  re- 
vengeful feeling  toward  Peggy.  The  mantle  of  charity 
stretched  with  the  rebound  from  despair  to  hope.  And  yet 
Job  could  not  help  indulging  his  pride  a  trifle. 

He  was  proud  of  winning  Bessie  against  tremendous 
odds;  proud  because  his  prognostications  of  the  future  of 
the  Chinese  in  Yarbtown  had  been  proven  to  be  correct, 
and  proud  because  his  great  disgrace  had  brought  him 


1 64  The  Wedding. 

greater  honor.  Job  was  to  be  married.  The  widow,  with 
tears  in  her  eyes,  had  confessed  her  error  in  opposing  him, 
and  had  given  a  hearty  consent  to  an  early  union. 

Parson  Smudgins  insisted  that  the  wedding  should  take 
place  in  the  church. 

"  You  know,  Job,  there  is  a  different  feeling  now  from 
what  there  was  when  you  went  away.  Everybody  wants  to 
come.  You'd  better  please  them  in  that,  I  think." 

"  No,  parson  ;  I  cannot  be  married  there,  nor  can  I  ever 
go  there  again  until  righted  formally  and  completely  by  the 
society.  I  am  going  to  be  married  under  the  old  oak,  the 
only  stanch,  true  friend,  next  to  Bessie,  I  had  the  night  I 
left." 

So  the  old,  friendly  oak  was  chosen  as  the  spot  for  the 
completion  of  his  happiness. 

The  evening  arrived.  Everything  was  in  readiness.  Mrs. 
Caldwell  had  prepared  a  great  feast  for  the  neighborhood. 
The  tables  were  spread  out  under  the  great  arms  of  the  oak, 
and  they  groaned  under  the  weight  of  the  homely,  old-time 
fare. 

Turkeys,  chickens,  plum-puddings,  and  the  ever  present 
wedding-cake,  formed  but  a  portion  of  the  good  things  spread 
for  jubilant  Yarbtown.  Chinese  lanterns  swung  from  the 
trees,  and  a  huge  bonfire  brightened  up  the  groves.  It  was 
a  grand  affair.  The  mistaken  leaders  of  the  church  were 
there,  and  showed  their  repentance  by  their  warm  congrat- 
ulations to  the  proud  and  happy  couple. 


The  Wedding,  165 

Peggy  Sproul  was  everywhere,  cutting,  carving,  dishing 
out,  finding  good  places  for  the  crowds  at  the  tables,  stop- 
ping now  and  then  to  draw  the  comer  of  her  apron  up  to 
her  eyes  to  wipe  away  a  tear,  while  she  said  to  herself:  "Oh, 
ter  think  that  I  should  ha'  ben  the  means  uv  puttin'  off  this 
happy  day  !  Wai,  wal — we  all  uv  us  make  mustakes." 

Job  and  Bessie  were  married  just  the  same  as  all  the 
rest  of  us.  Under  the  old  oak  they  repledged  their  love. 
The  faithful  old  tree  seemed  to  quiver  with  delight  as  a 
breeze  swayed  its  branches,  just  as  Bessie  gave  the  modest 
"yes."  It  had  the  proud  pleasure  of  witnessing  the  sealing 
of  the  secret  contract,  which  it  alone  had  been  conscious  of. 
When  the  happy  couple  stepped  to  the  carriage  in  wait- 
ing to  convey  them  to  the  widow's,  they  found  the  horses 
taken  out,  and  a  crowd  of  men  in  front  and  behind. 

"  It's  all  right,  old  fellow,  get  in,"  said  Sol.  Williams, 
stepping  up  to  Job. 

They  stepped  in,  and  with  a  shout  the  procession  started, 
shouting  and  singing  the  two  hearts  into  their  new  life. 

At  the  house  the  tables  and  chairs  were  full  of  the  gifts 
from  a  friendly  people.  Peggy  came  in  with  a  box.  She 
set  it  down  on  the  floor  and  throwing  her  arms  around 
Bessie's  neck,  said : 

"  Can  yer  forgive  me,  child  ?  An  old  woman's  heart  ez 
glad  ter  night  ter  see  that  her  error  hain't  quite  wrecked 
ycr  life.  I  wuz  a  gal  onct,  an'  hed  my  day,  too.  I  wuz  all 
ready  when  the  good  Lud  tuk  him  away  f  me."  Then  the 


1 66  The  Wedding. 

poor  woman  broke  down.  "  Here,"  she  said,  handing  the 
box  to  Bessie,  "  here's  all  I've  left  uv  all  I  got  for  my  day; 
take  it  for  your'n,  an'  think  kindly  uv  poor  Peggy."  Bessie 
kissed  Peggy,  and  opened  the  box. 

It  revealed  an  old-style  tea  set.  Cups,  saucers  and 
plates,  all  colored  and  pictured,  worthless  for  modern  use, 
but  Bessie  felt  the  sacrifice  the  good  old  lady  had  made, 
and  understood  the  motive.  She  leaned  over  Peggy's 
shoulder  as  she  sat  with  her  face  buried  in  her  hands,  and 
whispered  : 

"  You  dear,  good  woman,  I'll  keep  it  ever  to  remember 
you  by." 

And  so  the  bells  went  on  ringing  their  merry  chimes  of 
love  in  Job's  and  Bessie's  heart.  They  were  on  the  borders 
of  the  golden  land. 


The  Wind-up.  167" 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE    WIND-UP. 

JOB  was  confined  to  his  room  in  the  hotel  for  several 
weeks.  The  fracture  of  his  limb  at  this  time  was  a  sore 
trial.  Everything  was  auguring  success.  They  needed 
his  advice  and  assistance  at  the  new  buildings.  The  fac- 
tories were  to  be  under  his  charge,  and  he  wished  to  be 
on  hand  to  see  that  everything  was  arranged  properly  for 
the  commencement  of  business.  He  was  almost  tempted 
to  doubt  the  sweetness  of  that  revenge  which  "  heaps  coals 
of  fire  "  on  the  enemy's  head. 

Simon  Spud  revealed  the  selfishness  and  meanness  of 
his  character,  in  a  marvelous  degree,  in  this  affair.  He 
quieted  what  little  conscience  he  had,  by  paying  to  Job 
the  smallest  sum  promised  by  him  as  a  reward  for  saving 
the  vouchers  of  his  property;  beyond  that,  he  never 
troubled  himself  about  Mr.  Stearns.  Job  was  not  in  need 
of  any  financial  assistance;  but  it  is  rather  pleasant  to  feel 
that  one  you  have  served  has  some  sensation  of  gratitude. 

Job  recovered,  however,  and  uniting  himself,  with  all 
his  capital  and  brains,  to  the  new  enterprise,  made  it  a 
success.  His  poverty,  sickness,  and  at  one  time,  disgrace, 
are  all  forgotten  now  in  the  many  cares  of  a  prosperous 
business.  Simon  found  himself  one  too  many  in  Yarb- 
town,  so  he  disposed  of  what  little  estate  remained  to  him, 
and  removed  to  a  distant  mining  town  in  Nevada,  where 
he  now  runs  a  whisky  mill  and  poker  game. 


1 68  The  Wind-up. 

Peggy  Sproul  still  lives,  holding  fast  to  her  contracted, 
bigoted  views,  but  with  a  good  heart  for  all  that. 

Mrs.  Caldwell  runs  the  boarding-house  now  attached  to 
the  mill.  She  is  a  strong  friend  to  Job,  and  has  long  ago 
atoned  for  her  mistrust  of  his  character. 

Chinatown  has  been  rebuilt,  and  smells  worse  than 
ever.  The  great  question  has  never  been  satisfactorily 
settled  by  the  Yarbtownites.  They  are  still  cursed  with 
Chinese  labor,  Chinese  morals,  and  probably  will  remain 
so  until  the  great  wheel  of  justice  and  law  makes  its  revo- 
lution toward  disposing  of  the  question  at  issue. 

A  visitor  to  Yarbtown  may  still  find  the  moral  tone  of 
young  Yarbtown  to  be  of  rather  a  poor  quality.  He  may 
still  see  scores  of  men  sitting  lazily  in  the  bar-rooms,  and 
wise  men  still  ascribing  their  inactivity  to  their  native  in- 
dolence. 

My  story  is  told. 

Yarbtown  is  a  poorly  represented  type  of  many  villages 
in  California. 

The  stream  of  heathen  men  and  women  still  comes 
pouring  in,  filling  the  places  which  should  be  occupied  by 
the  Caucasian  race,  poisoning  the  moral  atmosphere, 
tainting  society,  undermining  the  free  institutions  of  the 
country,  degrading  labor,  and  resisting  quietly,  but  wisely 
and  successfully,  all  efforts  to  remove  them,  or  prevent 
their  coming.  Good  people,  what  shall  be  done  ? 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  AT  LOS  ANGELES 


University  of  California  Library 
Los  Angeles 

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